You Run, I Chase
by phoenixnz
Summary: Jarod and Miss Parker find they can't go back to what they were before the events of Island of the Haunted. They now find themselves wondering what next?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"_You run, I chase"_

"_Maybe that's the Parker curse."_

Were they cursed? Were they forever doomed to play with the hands that Fate had dealt them, or were there wildcards out there somewhere. As Jarod recalled his last conversation with Miss Parker, he wanted to believe that there was something different out there for both of them.

Five years. Years of being hunted, for what he was. A Pretender. A child prodigy and a man who could be anything he wanted to be. Jarod had been a doctor, a lawyer. He had played a fireman, a convict, meting out his own brand of justice to those who would dare trample on the weak and abused. The mortal envoy of the Greek god of vengeance, Onyssius.

But all that time, he had searched for answers to the real question. Who am I?

Sometimes he wondered if Miss Parker knew more than she was telling. The beautiful brunette certainly had her share of secrets. But he knew that his tall, leggy former childhood playmate was as much in the dark as he was. They had both been wronged by The Centre, the research facility which had kept him prisoner most of his life.

Five years ago, Jarod had learned that the research he'd been forced to work on, the simulations of various situations, which he'd been told would be used to help people, had been exploited. Used in criminal acts.

"_How many people died because of what I thought up," he'd once accused Sydney, his mentor, the only real adult face he'd ever known growing up._

Once he'd realised what was really going on, he had decided to escape. There had been others like him, of course, although none were possibly as brilliant as him. There had been Eddie, and then Alex. Jarod had decided to take them with him when he left. Only Eddie had made it so far. Alex had, so Jarod had believed, died in a fall in the Centre's rehydration core.

But just a few months ago, Jarod had learned that Alex was alive when he'd gone after Eddie, and then Jarod. Eddie hadn't survived Alex's games. Miss Parker and her father almost hadn't. Jarod now presumed Alex was dead, having fallen several feet into deep water.

And still they pursued him. Still Miss Parker came after him. That was her destiny, she claimed. She was a Parker. The great-grand-daughter of the man who had fled an island off Scotland, with a sordid past, to establish the facility that would later steal a young boy's life. Miss Parker believed she was forever touched by the family curse that a Parker would destroy everything they touched. Jarod didn't want to believe that.

But as he recalled that conversation, hearing the tone in Parker's voice, he knew she felt trapped by her life.

Jarod lay awake nights wondering what it was about him that The Centre and its ruling body, the Triumvirate, would fight so hard to keep him. They hadn't cared about Eddie. And Alex had suggested it was more than Jarod being a Pretender. Being anything he wanted to be.

He knew, despite the apparent enmity between them, Miss Parker was the key to his past, as much as she was to his. He would go to her and together they would seek out the answers. They had to. He believed now that The Centre was doing its best to keep them apart. That was why she was assigned the chase. He ran, she chased. That wasn't a curse. It was their lives. And Jarod knew now that if they were ever going to find new lives for themselves, they had to do it together.

But first things first. There was a problem in Cleveland he had to take care of. A pharmaceutical company and a young child who had died because they had been given the wrong medication. Jarod was determined to find out who was behind it. And why.


	2. Chapter One: Edge Pharmaceuticals

Chapter One

"Well, I must say Jarod, your resume is impressive. Harvard Med and ten years at Orion. Why'd you leave?"

"Slight disagreement with my CEO," Jarod said simply. "I didn't care for his business practices."

Howard Robson was well-known for his dislike of Doyle, the chief executive at the pharmaceutical company. Jarod counted on that to give him an edge.

"I like what I see here, Jarod." Robson leaned back in his chair. "Tell me why you want the job here?"

"I like the stock options," Jarod drawled casually, mimicking the other man's movements. Robson laughed. He stood and shook Jarod's hand.

"You're going to fit in nicely son," he chuckled. "Welcome to Edge Pharmaceuticals. I'm sure you'll be very happy here."

The two men walked to the door. Robson spoke to his assistant outside. "Maureen, make sure Jarod has security passes, and get Greg to show him around. See where he'll be working."

Jarod took a quick look in the mirror as he passed the woman's desk. The small, gold-rimmed glasses added character to his face – not that he needed them. But sometimes it helped to change his face shape a little. The most important thing was for people not to remember his face.

A knock on the door announced his new colleague, Greg Sharpe. A graduate of Yale University, Greg was a brilliant chemist with a five year history at Edge Pharmaceuticals. At least, that was what Jarod had read from the man's resume.

"Hey, new guy," Greg said, although he was at least ten years younger than Jarod.

"Jarod Altman," Jarod answered, shaking the younger man's hand.

Greg cocked an eyebrow. Of course, having studied at Yale, he would have known the Nobel prize-winning chemist.

"No relation," Jarod said. He liked to pick last names of well-known people in the same field. It often raised eyebrows, but he loved the little joke.

Greg showed him around, chatting all the while about the company – all of which Jarod already knew, but he let the younger man talk, only briefly interjecting to ask questions, just so the man would think he was listening. Meanwhile, he was making notes in his head about security systems – how many cameras were present, what sort of locks were on doors and escape routes should he get caught.

He left after an hour, heading in his car toward a quiet suburban street. As he stopped in the street, he looked at a house a couple of doors down, picking up a red notebook from the seat beside him. He opened it to the newspaper article.

"Boy, 5, dies of asthma attack. Parents blame medication."

A second article on the next page had more. "Pharmaceutical company denies wrongdoing in medication scandal."

He glanced again at the house, his eyes full of sadness for the young family who had lost a child unnecessarily. He would find the truth.

Parker walked along the dark corridor, dressed in her usual uniform of short tight skirt, knee-high boots and long jacket. She made her way through the sub-level into the sim lab where Sydney was working with Angelo.

"What's up with monkey brains?" Parker asked.

"I'm trying an experiment with external stimulation," Sydney said. Parker glanced at the screen Angelo's eyes were glued to. There was some kind of science or arts programme playing on the television. Parker felt her vision beginning to fade out as she watched the psychedelic colours.

"No wonder they call it the idiot box," she snapped.

Broots came in looking nervous, as usual. He was walking in a hurry but as if he was trying not to show he was in a hurry.

"Uh, Miss Parker, I'm so glad you're here."

"Wet your pants again Broots?" she said, indicating the way he was walking.

"Uh, no," he said, either not getting the joke or just writing it off as another one of Parker's caustic remarks. He steered both Sydney and Parker toward the office. Parker shot him a look which usually meant hands-off. But Broots clearly had something important to say.

He shoved a newspaper at her. She glanced at it.

"What?" she asked.

"It's about, you know, Mr Parker," he said in a loud whisper, looking around anxiously.

"What about him?" Parker said, trying to hide her own emotions. The man might not have been her biological father but he had raised her and she still felt something for him. Not that she was going to tell her colleagues that. "He's dead, Broots. He jumped out of a plane."

Broots continued. "Yes, he jumped out of that plane. But he's not dead. Read the story."

Parker looked at the article. It said police were looking for a man with white hair who had been found unconscious, parachute still attached, washed up on a beach. He'd been treated at a local hospital where he had subsequently disappeared."

Broots looked at her. "You don't think _they_ got him, do you?"

They being Raines and Lyle, both of whom were entering the sim lab. Parker quickly handed the newspaper to Sydney who hid it behind his back and looked at her brother and the Centre ghoul. Her expression looked almost as if she had just sucked on a lemon.

Raines spoke, his voice hoarse. "What is the situation with Jarod?" he said.

"We're following up on some leads," Parker told him.

Raines sent the computer analyst a poisonous look. Broots looked down at his feet.

"I would hate to think you were shirking your responsibilities, Miss Parker," Raines hissed, his breathing laboured despite the oxygen tank permanently attached. There were times when Parker felt like shoving that tank up his ... Focus, she thought, glaring at her brother who gave her a smarmy look.

"I'd love to be the one to bring him in," Lyle said. "I'm sure Parker wouldn't mind a little healthy competition."

Parker fought against the urge to grab a sharp object and stab him with it. The eerie music from the shower scene in Psycho started playing in her head. Fuck, she thought, remembering something Sydney had once said to her about the two of them taking the concept of sibling rivalry to new levels.

"Just make sure you do," Raines rasped. "The sooner we bring Jarod home, the sooner The Centre can get back to business."

What the hell did that mean? Wasn't it always business as usual? Parker thought. She watched the two men turn and walk out. Psycho and Insaneo, she thought, and chuckled to herself. It was hard to tell which was which sometimes.

Her phone rang.

"What?" she said, taking it from her pocket and answering it, her bad temper apparent in her tone.

"Miss me?" Jarod said. Parker rolled her eyes.

"What do you want?"

"How's Daddy these days?" God, how did he always know this stuff? Parker decided to go for deflection, rather than truth.

"Six foot under pushing up daisies," Parker retorted. "Which is where I'd love to put you once I get hold of you."

"Aw, now is that any way to talk especially after Carthis."

"Nothing happened on that island," she snapped.

"You keep telling yourself that." She could hear the smirk in his voice.

The truth was, something had happened, or at least, almost. They'd reached a turning point in their relationship. And Parker dreamed of that long night, when they'd both been sheltering from the raging storm. Instead of the reality, where they had come very close to kissing, only to be interrupted, in the dream version they had kissed. And it had been incredible.

But it was the road less travelled. And Parker just didn't know if she could take that path. Not now.

"Jarod, what do you want?"

"You know what I want," he said. "I'll trade you my past for yours."

"No deal," she said, feeling like she sounded like a game-show contestant.

He tsked. "You really should take your time to think about that one," he said.

Parker moaned in frustration as she was greeted by a dial tone. She'd forgotten that Broots and Sydney were there, watching her. They both had stupid grins on their faces.

"What?" she glared.

Sydney looked up, pretending he hadn't heard a thing. Broots was turning red. Parker growled and shook her head. How could a grown man still blush as much as he did. She grabbed him by the ear and he hissed in pain.

"You get me more information on my father," she ordered. "Do whatever it takes but find him, you hear me?"


	3. Chapter Two: Twinkies and Scooby Doo

Chapter Two

Jarod made his way to the lunchroom of the company, pulling his lunch out a paper bag.

"Twinkies?" Greg asked.

Jarod grinned up at him. "Yeah. I love 'em," he said. "Full of creamy goodness."

"Well, I'd be watching how many of those I put away," a woman with dark skin said. "Bad for the heart."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have that problem," Jarod smiled. He held out his hand. "Jarod."

"Linda," she said, shaking his hand. "You new around here?"

"Started today."

"Harvard Med, right?" she said.

He nodded. "How'd you know?"

"Howard's a fan. Been singing your praises all week," Greg said, putting a coffee mug down on the table and sitting next to Jarod.

"He's not the only one," Linda drawled.

"Jealous?" Greg retorted. Jarod got that. Robson was treating Jarod as the best thing since sliced bread, as was Greg. Linda had been top of the class until Jarod came along.

"Oh stuff it in your Scooby Doo boxers," she grinned back.

Jarod looked at the woman. "Scooby what?"

Greg looked at Jarod. "You never heard of Scooby Doo? Man, that was my favourite tv cartoon when I was a kid."

"I never watched much television when I was a kid," Jarod admitted. Well, it was true.

Greg put an arm on his shoulder. "Well, let me educate you my friend. See Scooby Doo's this dog ..." And he launched into an explanation of the dog and his four friends who went around solving mysteries.

Back at his tiny apartment later that night, Jarod was researching on the Internet. In the background on the little tv was playing a dvd of Scooby Doo cartoons. Occasionally Jarod would look up and chuckle at the antics of the cartoon dog and his best friend Shaggy. It was silly, and totally improbable, but Jarod got a kick out of it.

He hacked into the supply and distribution records of the company, checking to see where the ingredients for the pharmaceuticals came from. There didn't seem to be anything untoward in the records. But Jarod was sure there was something wrong with the drugs given to the little boy who'd died. He hadn't been the only one to suffer the consequences. No one else had died. Yet. But Jarod knew it was only a matter of time.

Miss Parker sat in her office, going through some of the mail. Mostly junk. Nothing to do with clients. She could almost swear they were censoring her mail these days. Probably keeping a close watch on anything that might possibly be from Jarod. Both Raines and her brother knew that Jarod sometimes fed her information about her past, or dropped obscure breadcrumbs.

She sighed, absently chewing on the end of her ballpoint pen, thinking about all those 'almost' moments between her and Jarod. The times when she had let him get away because she couldn't bring herself to shoot him. And if she admitted it to herself, she did have feelings for him. Oh, who was she kidding? She'd known him since childhood and she'd always had a fascination for the child prodigy who became a Pretender. Only time and circumstances had kept them apart.

Her door opened and she looked up, hoping for something to ease the monotony of the soap opera she called her life.

"Broots?"

The balding man came in, walking with a wince, as if he was desperate to visit the bathroom, but holding it in. Parker sighed again and shook her head. I'm surrounded by idiots, she thought. There were times when she did appreciate the man's intelligence, but his constant insecurities drove her insane.

"Uh, I managed to get hold of a doctor at that hospital. You know, the one where ..."

"I know," she snapped. "And why the hell are you whispering."

"Uh, well, Raines and, uh ..."

She got it. The ghoul and the psycho were not far behind. She held out her hand for the printout of information and skimmed quickly through it. She figured it was time for a little fact-finding mission of her own.

"Go get Sydney and tell him we're leaving."

"Lead on Jarod?" her brother's smarmy voice suggested.

"Possibly," she snapped, watching as Broots gingerly squeezed past Lyle and Mr Raines and hurried off to find the psychiatrist. "What do you want?"

"You're required to submit a daily report on your efforts to locate Jarod," Raines rasped. "I have yet to see it."

"That's because I've yet to write one. What's the point of writing a report that says the same thing it says almost every day. That I've got nothing."

"I thought you said you just had a lead," Lyle asked.

"I said possibly." Parker stood up and moved from behind her desk. "Now, if you don't mind, I have some preparation to do." She walked out of her office, ignoring the two men. Sometimes she really hated her life.


	4. Chapter Three: To Thine Own Self Be True

Chapter Three

Jarod was waiting for them. Just how he knew, Parker couldn't fathom. But she saw him leaning casually against a tree watching the hospital entrance. It had been a horrible flight from Delaware to Virginia and she was tired and cranky. She was tempted to call the sweepers, but somehow, in that uncanny way of his, Jarod must have known she wouldn't have brought sweepers this time.

She turned to Sydney and Broots, telling them to go talk to the staff in the hospital and get as much information as they could. Parker turned toward the man waiting for her. He looked good. His hair was longer than it used to be. Mind you, she thought, that was probably because in The Centre, they'd made him keep it short. It was a form of self-expression, she supposed. Jarod had certainly kept her on her toes with his various efforts over the years.

Damn him, why did he have to be so good-looking? He'd been an exceptionally good-looking boy as a teenager, and now he was a very good-looking man. She felt a slight stirring. The last time she had felt anything like that, she had fallen in love with Thomas Gates. Yeah, she thought cynically, and we know how that turned out. She felt a slight twinge of pain at the thought of her dead lover, murdered by operatives inside The Centre.

"What the hell are you doing here, Jarod?" she said when she reached him.

"Making sure you were okay," he said quietly. "The revelations about your father can't have been easy on you."

"Why do you care?"

"Why not?" he said simply. "Your past is important to you, just as it is to me. Besides, he holds the key to a lot of things."

Parker shook her head, sighing. "Mom told me in the vision my father held the answers."

"Biology doesn't make someone a parent," Jarod told her.

"Do you know where he is?" Parker asked finally, unable to hold back the temptation any longer. She needed answers and she was so sure that he had them.

"No," he said, shaking his head sadly. "I don't. I'm sorry. I came here asking the same kinds of questions Sydney will be asking right now and they couldn't tell me anything."

Jarod had told them he was a doctor, and the man they'd been treating was a patient of his. He imagined Sydney would be telling them the same thing. He nodded in the direction of the entrance and Parker turned, seeing Sydney and Broots coming out.

"Jarod ..." she began, intending to thank him for at least trying to help, but when she turned back, he was gone. Parker sighed once more. Story of their lives.

"Well?" she said, refusing to say anything to the two men about why she had been standing there.

"We confirmed it was your father. It was exactly as the newspaper said. He discharged himself and took off. We believe Lyle may have sent sweepers after him."

"So Lyle knows Daddy was here?" Damn, she thought.

Mr Parker was the only one who had seen the prophecy. Jarod had told her that, and she had no reason to believe he would lie about that little bit of information. The prophecy was God knew where now, and much as Parker would like to wash her hands of the whole thing, she knew that if Lyle got hold of the information, there would be serious repercussions.

The Centre had a way of squeezing the truth out of people. And if her father was caught ... she didn't want to think about it. She wasn't sure what Jarod planned to do if he ever found her father. After all, Mr Parker was one of those responsible for Jarod's imprisonment for over thirty years. She wouldn't blame Jarod one bit if he wanted to seek revenge against one of his captors. But she still thought of the man as her father.

She often wondered if Jarod included her in his quest for revenge. Did he see her as just another cog in the wheels of power the Centre wielded? She knew as long as he continued to search for answers to his own identity, to his own past, the Centre held power over him. And she was a big part of that hold. She'd been assigned the chase, after all, when Jarod had chosen to run five years ago.

Parker decided to stay in Virginia for the time being. Just to see if she could pick up any leads on her father. The three of them stayed in a motel, on her own expense account. Parker would get Broots to fake something in the computer records. If Lyle knew she had come here, he would put two and two together and know what she was doing. Even if she did manage to convince him that she thought it would lead her to Jarod, he'd want details, and she wasn't prepared to tell him she had met with the Pretender.

Her phone rang on the nightstand.

"What?"

"Have you found anything more about where your father went?"

"No," she told Jarod quietly.

"I'm sorry," he said, and she believed him.

She hesitated to ask. It had been a long time since they'd really had a normal conversation that didn't involve their pasts.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Do you ... ever think about what your life would have been like if it hadn't been for The Centre?"

"All the time."

"What do you think you would have done?"

"I don't know. It's hard to imagine what I would have done because I still really don't know who I am. Does that make any sense?"

She nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see her. She did understand. Jarod had no identity, but if he'd grown up a normal child, he would have discovered what he liked to do. He would have found a niche somewhere, a good career, a good life.

"I know that I will always want to do something to help others," he said. "I don't think that would change, even if we could change the past."

Parker plucked at an imaginary piece of lint on the chenille bedspread and sighed.

"I sometimes wonder if Tommy had lived, whether I would have been happy. In Oregon, or where ever. Renovating homes and selling them."

"You think he would have settled down, maybe?"

"I don't know."

"Did you and Thomas ever think about a family?"

"We never really talked about it. I don't know if that's what I want either. There's just too many problems out there. Too many things that can go wrong. It's a harsh world to bring up a child in."

"Yet if all people felt that way, the population would stagnate, grow old. And we'd never have any real hope for a better future. Sometimes I think people have children so that they can have it better than we ever did."

"Do you want that? Children, I mean?"

"With the right person."

With a jolt, Parker suddenly realised that part of her wanted to be that person. She wanted to be the one he fell in love with, made a home with. She remembered that almost kiss on the island and remembered how much she had wanted that too.

Parker frowned. When had this happened? When had she begun to feel this attraction for the Pretender? She knew what she was doing. Referring him to something like that impersonal title gave her the illusion of distance.

"Still there?" he was asking.

"Yes. I'm still here."

Parker leaned back against the pillows.

"What's it like out there Jarod? I mean, really?"

She saw so little of the real world, trapped within the walls of her own life, her own barriers, as well as those of The Centre. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to actually have a life.

"It's hard. Sometimes, I see so many people hurt, or damaged, because of the things people do to them."

"Like what?"

"The things people do because of greed. Do you remember a couple of years ago, there was a young man, a coma patient. Because a paramedic was getting kickbacks from the insurance, the young man's brain injury wasn't treated in time. I remember watching the parents, every day, slowly losing hope that their son would ever wake up. It's painful. But I also remember the love on their faces as they said goodbye."

"You paint a pretty sad picture."

"Yet, people can surprise you too. I've learned to appreciate the little things that others take for granted. Like Oreo cookies, or ice cream."

"Or fake dog poo," Parker laughed, remembering a prank he'd played.

Jarod chuckled. "Yeah, that was pretty funny. There's so much beauty to see, just as there is as much sadness. Sometimes I think it's just a matter of perspective."

"You might be right. I just wish ..."

"What?"

"Sometimes I think of just leaving. Just packing my things and going. Disappearing. Forgetting about my mom, The Centre, everything."

"Why don't you?"

"You know why."

"To thine own self be true," he quoted.

"Hamlet?"

"Very good Miss Parker. Do you remember who said it?"

"Polonius, to his son Laertes. It was a lecture, I think, about borrowing and lending money."

"Polonius' philosophy is something I think we all should think about. Take care of yourself first, before others. What he was saying to his son was to put his own interests above all those of his friends so that he was able to then take care of his friends."

"Is that what you think I'm doing? Putting the interests of the Centre above mine?"

"Yes."

He had a point, Parker thought, with a tiny shrug.

"But you still put others before your self," she said.

"I'm not a martyr, Miss Parker. Escaping from The Centre was my main priority."

"But what about all those things you just said, about wanting a family, with the right person."

"But in order for me to have that in my life, I must know who I am first. And to do that ..."

"You have to stay free of The Centre," she finished. "Do you ever think you will?"

"We both will, Parker. If we want it bad enough."

She wanted. Oh, how she wanted. She just didn't see a way out.

"It will come," he said, interpreting her silence correctly. "Some day, you'll just know it's time to go and you'll find that strength inside yourself to go."

"I hope so, Jarod."


	5. Chapter Four: Toxins and Consciences

Chapter Four

Jarod glanced around the dark corridor. He'd slipped in after hours to see if he could get some samples. Security cameras were everywhere, but he'd already taken care of that, splicing his way into the feed and looping his own recording. Simple. Getting into the supply warehouse – that was another matter.

He pulled out a machine designed to decode any combination lock – electronic ones that is, attaching it to the reader and waiting for the small computer to find the code. Less than a minute later, the door catch released and he slipped inside.

Jarod quietly began searching for what he wanted, grabbing bottles of the drugs supplied to local drugstores. Now all he had to do was check the ingredients. As he turned toward the door, he heard voices along the corridor and quickly ducked out of sight. Guards. He'd been there a couple of days and he knew the guards' schedules. This was out of the norm.

The lock on the door disengaged once more and Jarod realised the guards were coming in.

"We get caught, we're going to rot in hell."

"Oh relax, will you?" a second voice said. "It's just a little bit. They won't miss it. Come on, there's money to be made in the clubs."

Clubs? Jarod realised these guys were stealing drugs to push in nightclubs. That had him in a quandary. Should he stop them from stealing or pursue his own agenda. Damn the greed of some people, he thought.

He knew the company also had a 'natural health' side. The trouble was, some of their products could be used in the same way that illegal narcotics were. The ingredients in some of the so-called herbal products could be combined with others for a 'natural' high. People had died because their heart rates had climbed so high their bodies were unable to cope.

Jarod squeezed back into the gap he'd seen by the far wall, hoping the guard didn't switch on the light. This had been unexpected. Normally, Jarod liked to be twelve steps ahead of the game, but he hadn't taken this into account. Well, he could deal with this later.

He held his breath, waiting as the man took out a small flashlight and began searching through the storage crates for the supplies he wanted. A few quick adjustments to the boxes and he had what he wanted. Jarod slowly let out his breath when the man finally turned and went out.

Jarod waited five minutes, then crept out, going to the fire door at the end of the corridor, having deactivated the alarm.

Back in his apartment, he turned on the Scooby Doo dvd again and pulled out the containers of capsules. Setting up his chemistry equipment, he began his checks.

A short time later, he took one of his DSAs and inserted it in the player. His own face was looking back at him. The archive was dated about twenty years ago. Jarod was watching a documentary into Agent Orange.

"Sydney, why would they spray their own soldiers with this stuff? Especially if it's as dangerous as these people say."

"Because a lot of information was kept from them," Sydney said, his voice off camera. "Agent Orange was developed as a defoliant."

"So the Viet-Cong couldn't use the jungle as cover. I understand that. But the chemicals used contained dioxins. Which have been known to cause cancers as well as other illnesses."

"It's another form of biological warfare."

"But innocent people become the victims. It isn't fair Sydney. Why should innocent people have to suffer?"

"I don't know Jarod. Are you ready for the simulation?"

"I'm not sure I like this line of research Sydney. Creating a toxin to be used by the US military – it's dangerous in the wrong hands."

"So is every other weapon, Jarod. But I can promise you this is only for the military."

"And innocent people will still suffer. People don't start wars on principle Sydney. They do it because of greed, or hate."

Jarod sighed as he switched off the player and looked at his test results. The drugs had been laced with cheap narcotics. Probably from a third-world country. And in a small child, the amount of the narcotic would be fatal. The question now was, who was behind it. And why.

Miss Parker considered talking to police, but she remembered last time the police got involved in The Centre's business. That had been the morning she'd found Thomas shot in the head. A good man had lost his life that week, as had the man she'd considered to be the love of her life.

Her father was still missing. No one at the hospital seemed to know what had happened and they had checked the local shelters. She didn't know if her father had any funds stashed away or what he'd done. The Centre had declared him persona non grata after he'd stolen the prophecy and jumped off the plane. Which meant Lyle and Mr Raines knew he was alive.

That also meant that her father was running for his life. She had no doubt that the man could disappear for months if he wanted to. Hell, he'd done that for six months about eighteen months ago. When the Triumvirate pulled rank and started making changes at The Centre, her father had had to disappear. So there was every likelihood he'd done it again.

There was a knock on the door of her room. A quiet tap, tap which Parker hesitated to answer.

"Miss Parker," Sydney said softly.

Parker went to open the door. "What?" she said, letting him in the room.

"I thought we should talk."

"About what?"

"Jarod."

"What about him?" she said testily.

Sydney sat on the bed. "About the fact that you met with him today yet made no effort to capture him."

He'd seen them? Of course he had. Yet he had made no mention of it in front of Broots.

'I have other priorities," she said.

"Your father being one of them. Did Jarod tell you whether he'd found your father?"

"He didn't know where he was."

"Do you believe him?"

"One thing Jarod isn't is a liar," she said, suddenly realising that was the truth. He had never lied to her about what was important. Had always tried to help, in his own tormenting ways. Dropping breadcrumbs here and there. It was annoying. It was aggravating. But in a way, comforting. At least, she would be able to feel like she was getting some of the answers herself.

Answers to her mother's death. Her father's disappearance. Her 'indentured servitude' at The Centre. Why Thomas Gates had been murdered to stop her leaving The Centre.

"Tell me something Syd," she said tiredly. "Why do you think The Centre wanted me to stay so badly that they would kill for it?"

"I don't know Parker. I only know that Parkers have always run The Centre."

"And they'll continue long after I'm gone," she sighed.

"Unless you stop it."

Why was it that Sydney always seemed to be trying to prick her conscience? Did she even have a conscience any more? She'd hated people enough to kill them. Yet, she had been unable to go through with it. Her father had allowed murder but had never done it himself.

Her mother had fought to change The Centre, to keep its business practices altruistic, and she had died for it. Now her father had refused to toe the line, and he'd vanished. What would happen to her if she fought against her own training, her own conditioning? Would she disappear too?


	6. Chapter Five: Reality Check, Sis

Chapter Five

Jarod kept watching the activities of his new colleagues over the next day or so. None of them seemed to be acting suspiciously, but Robson began complaining about a lawsuit being filed against the company.

"What's it about?" he asked.

"Oh, the family of some guy claim the drugs we supply are toxic," Robson told him. He had been talking to another man about the lawsuit. "Keller here," he said, clapping a hand on the man's shoulder, "is responsible for quality control. He wouldn't let anything but the genuine article through."

Jarod was quick to notice Keller, a blonde man in his late thirties, looked a little discomfited at Robson's confidence in him. He wondered what that was all about and decided to do a little digging into Keller. He first began by checking personnel records. There didn't seem to be a black mark against him.

Next, Jarod tried legal avenues. Keller had nothing, not even a parking ticket. Jarod frowned, sitting back, feeling a little frustrated. Normally, he would have figured it out by now. But it had been three days since he'd analysed the drugs due for distribution, and as much as he wanted to stop what was happening he needed to get proof first. He couldn't go to Robson with just a suspicion yet.

He'd already checked Robson and knew he wasn't involved. Robson was a twenty-year career man with a good reputation. He was a loving father with two kids, both high school age. A happy marriage, a mortgage that was steadily being paid off. He definitely wasn't Jarod's man.

But Jarod was equally sure that Keller was involved somehow. He just had to figure out why.

He followed Keller one day when he noticed that Keller never lunched with the others. Keller had no car so Jarod wondered why he always went off-site to eat. As he walked along behind the blonde man, making it appear casual. When Keller stopped to eat in the local park, Jarod found a seat near the duck pond, keeping an eye on the man through his dark sunglasses, munching on a hero sandwich.

He was just close enough to hear Keller speak into a cellphone.

"I'm telling you, it's a sure thing this time. Look, I know my account's a little ..." Keller paused. "Yeah, I'll get the money. Don't worry about it. Just put it all on ... yeah, yeah, I know."

Keller was talking to a bookie, or Jarod was a monkey's uncle. He'd recently learned that phrase from Greg and it had sounded funny, so he kept using it.

Jarod took the information he gleaned from that little conversation and began looking up Keller's financial records. The man was close to bankruptcy. He had several defaults on loans and looked to be in a pretty bad state. Jarod noticed a few entries with what looked like online casinos. Keller was a gambler, and a serious one by the amounts he was spending.

He spent the next day looking for an opportunity to corner Keller. He got it after everyone had gone home for the day. Keller was doing his quality control checks in his office when Jarod found him.

"Working late?" he drawled.

Keller had been going through a batch of pills and had been holding a bottle up to the light. He almost dropped it when he heard Jarod's voice.

"Altman," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to get in a little overtime," Jarod said, pushing himself away from the door frame where he had been leaning and swaggered into the room. "Need the cash, you know?"

Keller started to nod, then shook his head. "No, I don't."

"You can't tell me you work the long hours for the fun of it," Jarod said.

"I happen to like my job," Keller said defensively.

Jarod smiled, waving his hands. "Well me, I don't plan to do this forever, you know?" He shrugged, relieved that he had managed to read a couple of books before he'd gone to sleep last night, picking up the language of a gambler. "I'm just waiting for my ship to sail."

"Come in," Keller said softly.

"Excuse me?" Jarod said, looking confused. But he'd deliberately made the mistake. Just to throw Keller off and maybe encourage a little Freudian slip.

"It's ship to come in," Keller repeated.

Jarod nodded. "Oh, right," he said, with a snicker. "Yeah. I'm always looking out for tips you know? Went down to Kentucky last year. Took out a huge bet on the Derby." His expression became mournful. "Lost the lot. Man I was so bummed."

Inwardly, Jarod was cringing. How could people talk like this? He couldn't believe people were so dumb to try their luck on games of chance. He'd read so much information about different formulas and tricks that gamblers tried to beat the system. But it never worked.

He had, of course, beaten the casinos. The live ones, anyway. Those games were a matter of skill. Knowing the odds. He supposed, if he really wanted to, he could easily beat the system in a horse race as well. But he would have needed a lot of inside information on the trainers, the conditions of the track, the horse's ability and preferences and it seemed like a lot of work to come out a few bucks ahead.

"Yeah, I hear that happens," Keller said. "Me, I don't try the horses too much. I never seem to be able to find a system that works." He stopped working and leaned on the counter, looking at Jarod, then whispered confidentially. "If you really want to make some money, I'd bet on the football if I were you. But not the big games. Not the pros. You can make a lot just going on high school games. Trust me on this. I've got some contacts in that arena."

"High school football?" Jarod said in the same soft voice. "Yeah, sounds good to me."

Keller took a slip of paper and scribbled a number down. "The number of my contact. He'll set you up with some good tips."

Obviously they can't have been that good, Jarod thought, if Keller was always losing. But he thanked the man and stuck around a little while, chatting casually. He didn't want the other man to think he was there just for gambling tips.

Parker returned with Sydney and Broots to The Centre, having found no clue to her father's disappearance. She was sorting through her mail when she saw an envelope with unfamiliar writing. Just as she was about open it, Lyle came in.

"Ever hear of knocking?" she said caustically.

"Find anything interesting in Virginia?" Lyle said, his expression clearly suggesting that he knew why she was really there.

"I had a tip that Daddy had been there," she said, deciding that honesty was the best policy. "And I had a call from Jarod the other day, laying out his usual breadcrumbs." She sighed heavily for effect. "So I figured Jarod might be trying to chase a lead."

"Just remember where your loyalties lie, Parker," Lyle told her. "Mr Parker is now persona-non-grata."

Yeah, the same thing you did for Broots, she thought, glaring at him.

_Broots had gone to the data annex to try and figure out who was accessing old Centre files. While there, an assassin had murdered everyone in the annex. Because Broots had been the only one to survive, he was now suspected of either colluding with the killer or being the shooter himself. Which was ridiculous, Parker thought. Broots couldn't even shoot to save his own life. Why would he help an assassin?_

"_He was spotted running from the scene," Lyle said. He'd been watching the shooting on the surveillance footage. "I've dispatched a decon team to find him."_

_Parker looked at her brother, her face worried. After all, she was the one who had sent him there in the first place._

"_A decontamination team for Broots?"_

_Lyle looked up at her angrily. "Miss Parker, there's a leak in The Centre. Someone downloaded eyes-only data to a mole at the annex."_

_She stared at her brother, stunned. "Broots could be the mole. Hell, he could be the shooter for all we know."_

_Sydney answered that. "Broots couldn't do that," the psychiatrist said, shaking his head._

"_We don't know that," Lyle returned. "Not for sure. All we know is that we've been compromised."_

_His answer to that 'compromise' was a Schedule Seven, which would shut off all access to Broots. Parker and Sydney were forbidden to go look for him but Parker had ignored the directive and gone to the school where Broots' daughter Debbie was enrolled. Debbie was now eleven and she wanted to keep her safe._

_Lyle had come in later to report that the decon team was still looking for him, adding that Broots' home computer had been taken to see if they could pin him down as the leak._

"_Broots isn't the leak," she said, with a quick look at Sydney standing beside her. Really, she thought, were these people morons. "But he could find out who is," she pointed out to her brother._

"_That isn't how it works," Lyle said, seeming smug. "Broots lives or dies on his own. Until and if this matter's resolved."_

"_I'm afraid Mr Lyle does not share your sense of loyalty," Sydney told her._

"_Centre reality check. Broots is expendable."_

_Parker walked up to her brother. "I can't believe that you weren't spawned under some rock, instead of being born from the same flesh and blood that I came from. As much as I hate to admit it, Broots is more of a brother to me than you will ever be. And I won't throw him out like a piece of garbage." She started to walk away._

_Lyle remained impassive, almost smirking. "Hark, do I hear violins playing?" _

_She turned back to him. "Lyle, reality check. I intend to get to the bottom of The Centre's problem. Without sacrificing Broots in the process."_

She broke out of her reverie to find her brother looking smugly at her. She hadn't missed the fact that he was now calling their father 'Mr Parker' instead of Dad. She didn't care what the DNA results had said. He was her father – he had raised her. Especially after Mom died.

"It would be better for you," Lyle said warningly, "for all of us, in fact, if you stopped looking for the old man. Reality check, sis. His days at The Centre are over."

Parker watched him with narrowed eyes as he walked out. She was not going to watch the man who had raised her be thrown to the wolves. And that was the whole point. Her brother would do it and watch in glee as her father was torn apart.

She turned back to her desk and picked up the envelope. In it, she found a small disk. A DSA. Grabbing her own player, she started playing it, looking up at the door to make sure she wasn't interrupted.

Her father appeared on the screen. He must have made the video some time after leaving the hospital in Virginia. The background was some kind of dingy motel.

"Angel, it's me. I'm okay, for now. But the wolves are at the door and I must keep running. Listen Angel, watch your back. I can't protect you any more. Sweetheart, listen, I'm going to need some money. Wire some to my Caymans account. You can get the number from a mutual friend. You know the one I'm talking about. Remember the bank in Dover? I know you lied about that. It's okay. We've got a lot of explaining to do, but some other time. Get me that money. Better yet, get our mutual friend to do it, so it can't be traced. Remember, a family is a tyranny, ruled over by its weakest member. Remember that."

Parker considered that quote. It was the second time he'd said it to her. The situation had been the same last time too. He'd been running for his life too then. The question was, who was the weakest member? Was it her? Or Lyle? She had to assume he meant Lyle. Because right now it seemed that Lyle ruled over her, yet she was the only sane one.

She wondered also about the unusual request he'd made. And the reference to the bank in Dover. Jarod had set up a meeting with her then, to show her a man who had been receiving funds from her father's account for years. Fenigor. She briefly wondered what had happened to the old man who had been a friend of her mother's. He had been one of the men assigned to take Jarod from his home. He'd also tried to help Catherine Parker rescue the children.

Jarod had known about the transfers. Was her father telling her to get Jarod's help? She sighed and picked up the envelope trying to get some clue as to where her father might be. A card fell out of it, with a number. It was a cellphone number. She frowned, then took out her own phone and dialled.

"Miss Parker?" Jarod's voice answered.


	7. Chapter Six: Falling In Love

Chapter Six

"_Miss Parker!"_

Jarod supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that Miss Parker's father had told her to get him to transfer the money. Mr Parker had been in the cargo hold with him on the plane when he'd looked at the prophecy. When he'd finished reading the scroll, he'd had such an odd smile on his face. Yet he had never said what the prophecy was.

Jarod realised that Mr Parker felt he was now the only one to be trusted in this whole affair. Raines, Lyle, and the rest of the powers-that-be were after Mr Parker for his knowledge about the prophecy.

He decided to take a little break from the Cleveland pretend for one day, and took the chance that Lyle and Raines were more interested in chasing Mr Parker than in chasing him. He had no doubt that the chase was still on, but they had given just as high a priority to chasing the scrolls.

When he arrived in Blue Cove, it was late. There were no lights on at the house, the small cottage that had once been the summer home for the Parkers and now owned outright by Miss Parker. Jarod used a small blade to unlock the latch on the bedroom window and climbed in, careful not to make any sound. He checked his watch. It was almost eleven. Parker didn't usually get home until close to midnight, or even later sometimes, and he wanted to make sure they were alone.

Taking out a small receiver, he switched it on and started scanning the rooms for any transmitters. He had no doubt they were keeping a closer eye on Parker these days, and that included bugging her home. Sure enough, there were transmitters on her phone line, as well as two in the living area. Using his transceiver, Jarod had a way of neutralising the transmitters, bouncing the frequencies off each other. All the techs would get would be static, making them think there was something wrong with them. But he knew if Lyle was the one who had ordered the bugging, then he might check up on Parker, but not so much that his sister would get suspicious.

Just as Jarod completed his analysis, Parker arrived home. She was early for a change. He ducked into the bedroom as the headlights from her car swept over the windows, almost like searchlights. Checking through the window, he saw that she was alone. About a minute later, her key turned in the lock and she came in, sighing. He heard the click of the door lock and the clink of the door chain as she locked it in place.

Parker sighed heavily. Jarod heard the tap of metal on wood and knew she'd taken her gun out from her belt and put it down on the side table next to the sofa. Then another clink as she poured herself a glass of scotch.

"You know, with your history of ulcers, I hardly think that's the brightest move."

Startled, Parker almost dropped the glass as she whirled around to face him. She reached for the gun on the table and almost dropped it in her haste to get it out of the holster.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Jarod looked at her as she pointed the gun at him. All those moments when they'd faced off before came back to him. The last thing he wanted was for her to shoot him, and he knew deep down she wouldn't. At least, he hoped. Parker could be unpredictable at the best of times. But Jarod knew something she didn't. All those pent-up feelings he had – the loneliness, the desperation, the yearning to find some way, any way of not being alone; she felt them too. He'd heard it in her voice the night they'd talked.

So for once Jarod stopped thinking and just acted. He moved toward her, ignoring the gun, ignoring her warning look, taking gentle hold of her wrist and pushed it down. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Startled, Parker's response was cool. But he soon warmed her up, his tongue a gentle invader that she accepted with barely a whimper.

Parker had no idea what to think when she saw Jarod in the doorway. But when he kissed her, all rational thought went out the window and she found herself wanting more. She didn't hesitate, pulling him into the bedroom. He came without resistance, letting her pull him down to the bed with her. And two lonely people found solace in each other.

It was more than an hour later when Parker rolled over in the bed to lie on top of him. She put her head on his naked chest, her cheek on his bare skin as she lightly traced his nipple. Jarod brushed her hair back, his touch gentle. She felt his love in that touch, although he hadn't actually said the word. Neither had she.

She turned her head to look at his face, wanting to say something, but not sure what. But just as she opened her mouth, she heard a knock on the door. Frowning, she rolled away from him and pulled on a robe, going to the door. Without pulling the chain off, she opened the door.

"Lyle?"

"Sorry sis, I know it's late. But a sweeper team reported that Jarod was seen in the area. I know how he likes to pay you unexpected visits. You didn't answer your phone."

"Sorry. I was exhausted and went to bed early."

Lyle leered at her, as if he was trying to see her body under the robe. Parker fought back a shudder.

"Well, everything looks okay sis," Lyle said. "But you'll call, right, if you see or hear anything."

"Of course," she said, as if there was ever any doubt. She closed the door and went back to the bedroom. The bed was empty, the bedclothes flung back. Jarod's clothes were gone. Parker sighed. Guess that's that, she thought. Just then, Jarod came out of the bathroom, fully dressed.

"I thought you'd gone," she said.

"Disappointed?" he asked.

She frowned at him. "You're not leaving, are you? Lyle's gone."

"No. But there is something we need to do."

He bent down and picked up a case, taking out a laptop, then carrying it out to the living room.

"Your father must have had his reasons why he gave you my number," he said. "But we can do the transfer. Were you able to get the Centre account number?"

Jarod had asked her to get into the Centre mainframe and find the account number. Since Jarod had made several forays into the mainframe, and had stolen funds from the Centre accounts, Lyle and Raines had seen to it that security was tightened, and the funds were diverted to another account. Only top executives were given access to the numbers.

Parker had suggested asking Broots to get that information, but Jarod had told her that Broots was far too skittish. Angelo, on the other hand, while he might be crippled emotionally by his empath abilities, he had the skills to be able to get the information Jarod needed.

"Parker help Jarod, help Daddy," the empath had said when she'd asked him to do it.

"Yes, Angelo. I'm helping Daddy."

"Jarod love Parker, help Parker."

Love? Parker had wondered about that. But she knew now that what Angelo had hinted at just might be true.

Now, as she sat beside him on the sofa, she watched as Jarod stole funds from Centre reserves and used a number of different servers so the money couldn't be tracked. She smiled up at him.

"I always wondered how you did that."

He looked at her and smiled back. "Now, all I need to do is put a marker on the funds. When he goes to withdraw the funds, we'll be able to track it, find out where he is. It's not perfect, but it'll give us a lead."

"Do you think he knows that?" Parker asked.

"I think that's why he had you call me. It's his way of leaving breadcrumbs."

"How long, do you think, before he tries to access the funds?"

"Could be a day or so."

"I hope he's okay," she sighed.

"So do I. If The Centre gets hold of him ..."

"There's no telling what they'll do to him." Parker put her hand on Jarod's and squeezed, looking for reassurance. Jarod put his other hand on hers and squeezed gently.

"I should go," he said.

"Do you really have to?"

"Lyle has this place bugged. I should have told you before," he added when she frowned at him. "I think that's why he came tonight."

"Bastard. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised," she sighed.

"Things are bad at The Centre?"

She told him about having to file daily reports, no matter what.

"What will you tell them about tonight?"

"Nothing. I don't care, Jarod."

"There may be sweepers around," he told her. "There's a good chance they'll see me leave."

"Then I'll tell Lyle I was in bed and didn't hear anything. Jarod, promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise," he said, after a moment.

He shut down the laptop and moved toward the bedroom, opening the window. Then put the laptop back in the case. Parker hesitated as he went to climb out the window.

"Jarod," she said, going to him. She pulled him into a deep kiss. He broke it off after a few moments, then smiled softly down at her.

"I'll call you as soon as I know anything," he said.

"Bring him home," she said.

"I'll try," he whispered as he left.


	8. Chapter Seven: Trusting The Heart

Chapter Seven

Parker strolled along the corridor, a smile on her face as she thought about what she and Jarod had done last night. Damn, he might have been inexperienced when he'd left The Centre, but he had more than made up for it in his years away. Her body was still tingling with some of the things he'd done to it. There had been this thing he could do with his tongue ... God, she thought.

She bumped into Broots. He had dark circles under his eyes, as if he had been working all night.

"'Morning," he mumbled.

"Did Lyle have you working all night?" she asked, knowing Broots had been asked to work on a project.

"Uh, yeah," Broots said uncomfortably.

Parker studied him. He looked exhausted. He had a young daughter he needed to take care of and this working all night didn't help.

"You should take the day off," she suggested. "Go spend some time with Debbie."

"Uh, Debbie's with her Mom for the weekend."

Why did Broots suddenly seem uncomfortable with the way she spoke to him? Then she realised why. She had always been fairly abrupt with him. Broots might have become a friend over the years, but she still treated him the same way she always did. Her sudden change in attitude was out of character.

Sydney had joined them by this time and he too noticed the change. He narrowed his eyes at her, deep in thought.

"Well, I'm going to get some coffee," Parker said. "Then I have to get to work. You should do the same," she said, looking pointedly at Sydney.

The two men stared after her as she pushed past them.

"Huh," Broots said. "Something tells me she got some last night."

"And I think I know who," Sydney said.

Broots stared at the older man. "Who? It's not like she's been seeing anybody."

"Think, Broots. Who has Lyle calling you in on special projects? Lyle had sweepers out last night, and from what I heard from Sam, they were checking out the area around Parker's place."

"You mean ..."

Sydney snickered. "Jarod!"

"Do you think they're together?" Broots said in a loud whisper.

"I don't know, Broots. But I know there's always been something between them. Remember Bartlett?"

"That psycho racist neo-nazi?"

_Bartlett, Broots thought. A man who had caused the deaths of two good people, simply because of the colour of their skin and their culture. A little girl had been orphaned. Jarod had taken the man down, leaving him trapped in a net in the midst of a hurricane in Florida. But Bartlett had managed to get free._

"Bartlett tried to kill them both," Sydney reminded him. He then recalled when Bartlett, who had been freed from prison on a technicality, had become part of another organisation victimising the pastor of a local church, who was promoting a rally against racism. Angelo had somehow sensed Jarod was in danger, and had finally realised it was Bartlett. "Remember Parker's reaction?"

"_If Bartlett finds him he will kill him." Parker's face was full of fear and concern for the Pretender. But she quickly added a disclaimer. "And ruin my chance."_

_The look in her eyes and the frown on her face dared both Broots and Sydney to contradict her._

"Jarod and Parker have been dancing around their feelings for each other for the last five years. As much as she would deny it." Sydney bent his head. "Lyle cannot find out about this," he told Broots.

"What should we do?" the bald man asked.

"Protect them both."

Broots had always been a fearful sort of man. Not that he was a coward. But he'd always had a healthy dose of respect for the Pretender. He'd seen what Jarod was capable of. And The Centre had always made Jarod out to be some sort of sociopath. Broots knew better. After all, Jarod had saved his life, even if he'd had to kill a man to do it.

The thought that he now had to protect his friend, and the man he owed his life to, was a huge burden. And he wasn't sure if he'd be able to pull it off. But he wanted Parker to be happy. And judging from the way she looked this morning, he had a feeling Jarod could make her happy.

Jarod sighed happily. He pretended to work, but his mind was elsewhere. Thinking about a certain beautiful brunette. He absently rubbed his groin area, still thinking about the things she had done.

He'd had lovers before. His first year away from The Centre, there had been Nia, the woman who had escaped from Argentina when she had been young. She had been his first. There had been Rachel, and Zoe. And a few others. Only Zoe had ever come close to breaking through his walls. But Parker was something else entirely. And he knew why.

He'd never said it, but he hoped he'd showed it, the last time they had been together. There had been a moment, after leaving the island, when they'd been taken to the airport. He'd been sitting in the car talking with her about her choices, his hands cuffed in front of him. And for a moment he'd looked at her, and placed his hand on hers. And in that moment, she had responded, until the burden of her own life took over.

Jarod whistled as he got to work, telling himself he needed to focus on the job at hand. He'd set up his own patch into the surveillance, so he'd know when Keller left the building. He was sure that Keller was his man.

A short while later, Keller left. Jarod made as if he was going to get some supplies and followed Keller. The blonde man looked around, almost as if he was expecting to be followed. Jarod wasn't surprised. With the lawsuit pending, Keller was bound to be a little paranoid.

He watched as Keller met with a sallow-skinned man. His companion was of Asian extraction, probably Filipino or Indonesian, Jarod thought. He took note of the man's licence plate as he drove off.

Later that day, as he researched through his hacking, he saw that the car was a rental. It had been paid for by a company credit card. And the company was one out of Indonesia. It seemed Keller was dealing with a pharmaceutical company out of Indonesia. Being responsible for quality control, he could easily let sub-standard products pass through his checks and sell them off as more quality product.

Jarod didn't know a lot about pharmaceutical companies in Indonesia. And he wasn't about to judge one by the other. But it was clear from his research into the products that the company was using ingredients of a far lesser quality than was legally allowed.

He would need to confront the owners of that particular company, he thought. But as he checked his logs, he saw something else that grabbed his attention.

Jarod quickly dialled a number.

"It's me. We got a hit. He withdrew the cash an hour ago. He's somewhere in Manhattan."

"Damn!" Parker said. "We won't have a chance of finding him." Her voice was full of disappointment.

"I promise you, I will do my best to find him. I'm sure he'll leave another breadcrumb."

"What about that place in Harlem?" Parker said. "The home? Do you think he might go there?"

Jarod remembered. Redemption Home, where Edna Raines had been sheltering just before her death. Mr Raines had claimed she'd killed herself, but Jarod knew better. She had been eager to tell Miss Parker the truth about her mother's death before she'd died herself.

"There's a good chance," he said.

He heard Parker sigh softly. He'd made sure that the phone she was on was a secure line so it couldn't be traced, and also that sweepers listening in couldn't hear.

"I keep thinking about last night," she whispered and it was clear that she was trying not to be overheard.

"Me too," he answered.

"Is this real?"

"As real as you want it to be."

"I don't know," she sighed. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Trust your heart. The way your mother did."

"You and your riddles," but her tone was amused more than sarcastic.

"I won't abandon you," he promised. "You'll know when the time is right. You just have to say the word."

She was silent for a moment. Jarod wanted to say the words, but they somehow choked in his throat. He did love her. He always had. But was she ready for those three little words?

"I know you won't," she returned. "I trust you, more than I trust anyone."

It was the first admission for her that her feelings also went beyond the boundaries of their 'other' relationship of the hunter versus the hunted.

Jarod heard her walking on the wooden floorboards of her house and realised there was someone at her door. He was shocked when he heard the name.

"Ethan?"


	9. Chapter Eight: Confessions

Chapter Eight

"Hello Parker. I had a feeling you needed me."

Her brother had been gone for months. Now he was here in front of her. Parker realised Jarod was on the other end of her phone.

"I have to go," she said.

"Parker, be careful," Jarod warned. But he wasn't warning her about Ethan, she realised. There were still sweepers out there. No matter what she'd done to stop them listening in. Playing music, drowning out the transmission with so much static. But if they had spotted Ethan, they could be on their way to her house. And she had to protect her brother at all costs.

"Ethan, it's not safe," she said. "You shouldn't be here."

"I ... I felt ..."

She nodded. "I know. Listen, there's something you need to know. Jarod and I ..."

He nodded happily. "I know. I'm glad. You need each other. You're good for each other."

"It's not just that. We found something. Something you should know."

About a month ago, Jarod had uncovered another lie, this time about Ethan. It turned out that Major Charles was not Ethan's biological father. His real father had been one of the subjects of yet another of The Centre's experiments. They'd used the man's sperm to fertilise the eggs, which then became the embryos frozen and kept at NuGenesis. Where they'd stayed, waiting.

The truth had been devastating for Jarod. Having lost Kyle, he had liked the idea of having a younger brother looking up to him. But Ethan had said that it made little difference to him anyway. Biology didn't make someone family.

Parker sighed. "Ethan ..."

"Your father's in trouble," he said, with that sixth sense they'd both inherited from their mother. Only Ethan's seemed to be stronger than hers. Parker wondered if the reason for that was because Raines had been training Ethan from a young age. But then again, Raines had tried to turn her brother into a sociopath.

She found herself telling Ethan about the plea for help from her father and the way she and Jarod had tracked him.

"Jarod and I ... we know he was in Manhattan today. We think he might have headed to a place called the Redemption Home."

Ethan smiled. "I will go there and I will bring him home."

But Parker was immediately worried for her baby brother. "Ethan, no. You don't know what you'll be facing there. There's a good chance that Lyle's on his trail as well."

"I'll be careful," he assured her. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "You worry too much, big sister."

"I've already lost our mother. I don't want to lose you too."

Ethan put a hand on her chest, above her heart. "You haven't lost her, Parker. She's always here." With that he was gone.

As much as Jarod wanted to track Miss Parker's father down, he had to finish what he'd started. So he decided to confront the company man Keller had been dealing with.

He made his way across town to the hotel the man was staying at, and conned his way into the man's room by speaking his language and telling him there was a problem with the deal at Edge Pharmaceuticals.

The company rep was surprised to find Jarod at the door.

"What is this?" he said, in accented English.

"This is about you selling sub-standard pills and about a little boy who should be going to school with his friends. Instead he's dead. And this is your doing."

Jarod pulled out the newspaper article. "Tell me," he said, speaking the other man's language. The man began shouting in his own tongue.

"I didn't know, okay? I didn't know. I just sell the stuff. Keller, he ..."

"Let me guess. He gets a kickback for changing the labels and selling your stuff as someone else's. Does that about cover it?"

"We didn't know they were poison."

"But you do now, don't you? Tell me, is Keller demanding more money?"

"He threatened to go to the police if we didn't pay him more."

"So he's resorted to blackmail. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't take all this to the DA. Or tell the parents why their little boy is now buried in the local cemetery."

"Please! We were just trying to get our product into the country. We couldn't do it through normal channels."

Jarod nodded. "Because it wouldn't pass FDA requirements, is that it? So you thought you could circumvent the process."

"I went to school with Keller's brother years ago. I knew Keller was strapped for cash so I offered him money. I didn't know a boy had died."

Still angry, Jarod left, after getting a promise from the man that he would go to the police himself and confess everything. Confession aside, Jarod had enough evidence anyway, and he was going to give that to the police. But there was still one more thing to do.

Early the next day, he decided, was the best time to deal with Keller. He stopped by the man's office. As usual, Keller was there early. Jarod held up a bag of doughnuts and a tray of coffee he'd bought at the local coffee shop. Bought and laced with a fast-acting drug.

"I saw your car in the lot," he said. "Thought I'd buy you a coffee. I made a killing on the game the other day, thanks to your tip." He beamed at Keller.

The blonde man looked surprised and Jarod thought he saw a flush on the other man's cheeks. But he took the coffee anyway. Jarod sat down on the stool beside the counter and chatted about things while pretending to sip the coffee. It wasn't long before Keller started turning red, his hand going to his throat as if he couldn't breathe.

"Are you all right?" Jarod asked, pretending concern.

Keller began choking, reaching for water.

"What's wrong?" Jarod said smugly. "Trouble breathing?" He stood over Keller who had by now collapsed to the floor. "Imagine how it felt for the parents of little Timmy. You know, the boy who died of an asthma attack? They did all the right things. Got him his medication. Made sure he took it regularly. It's funny though, how the drugs just didn't seem to work.

"Imagine how it feels to have your throat constrict, your lungs stop working. You're trying to draw in air but somehow, you just can't get enough. You're gasping for air ... are you there yet?"

"What is this," Keller gasped, writhing on the floor.

"Just a little cocktail I put in your coffee. It constricts your breathing, prevents your lungs from getting the oxygen they need." He leaned down. "Want some help? I could go find some medication." He straightened up and went looking through Keller's supplies for the asthma medication. The same one given to the little boy.

"No, please," Keller said. "You shouldn't use that stuff. There's another supply."

"Why should I do that when it's right here?"

"Because it's poison. I swapped the labels."

"You what?"

"Another company is paying me to use their product. But it's laced with poison. I found out when the boy died. I didn't think I was doing anything wrong. Please ..."

"You didn't think you were doing anything wrong? And what were you doing with the product that was being made here?"

"I was selling it on the black market. Please, help me."

"Did you think that maybe that was what the little boy was begging, right before he gasped his last breath."

"I didn't mean for the little boy to die. I didn't," Keller sobbed."I just needed the money. Please, god, just help me."

Jarod smirked. "Oh, don't worry," he said. "The effects will wear off. And there won't be any permanent damage. At least, not to your health. But as for your career, and your reputation, well ..."

Keller, suddenly finding his lungs were clear again, looked up in shock to find his boss glaring at him. Jarod turned and looked at Robson, who was looking at him in disbelief.

Parker was in her office when she heard activity outside. There were raised voices and running footsteps. Then Broots came in, followed quickly by Sydney.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Parker ..." Sydney began, but he had no time to say any more as Lyle and Raines strode into the office.

"Well, if it isn't Abbott and Costello," she quipped.

"You've been holding out on us, Parker," Lyle said. His expression was smug.

"What are you blathering on about?" she asked.

"You've been meeting with a certain Pretender," Raines accused. "Not only that, you've been meeting in secret with Ethan."

"Ethan showed up at my door last night. But as for Jarod, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"We know about the phone conversations between you and Jarod."

Parker rolled her eyes at her twin. Those conversations were no secret. They all know that Jarod called to torment her occasionally. But god help her if they knew about the more intimate activities.

"We know you two have been working together to find Mr Parker," Raines rasped. "And you know how The Centre feels when one of its trusted employees turns against them."

Parker frowned. She didn't like the sound of this.

"The board wanted to terminate you," Lyle told her, implying that by terminate they weren't meaning a firing. "But I managed to talk them into a demotion instead. You're off the chase for Jarod. Frankly, you were lucky to get your old position back as a cleaner, Parker." He smirked. "You can say thank you."

Parker stared at him, stony-faced. Demoted? Taken off the Jarod chase? How was she supposed to find her father if she was stuck doing her old job in security? But she didn't argue, standing silently until Lyle and Raines had left.

Broots heaved a sigh of relief, as if while Lyle had been in the room, all the air had been sucked out.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Just peachy," she told him.

Sydney looked at her. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I'm going to do my job," she said. Within minutes, she knew her office was about to be packed up and she would be relocated to another office on another sublevel. She grabbed her phone and headed out to the garden, looking at both Broots and Sydney, warning them with her eyes not to follow.

Jarod answered on the first ring.

"Parker? What's wrong?"

She told him what had happened. "I think they know Daddy's in New York."

"I'm on my way there now," he said. "I'll find him."

"Ethan's way ahead of you. He left last night."

"What?"

"Hurry, Jarod. I have a bad feeling about this."

"Yeah. Me too."

Jarod sped up, knowing now that things were about to come to a head. Parker had told him that she'd spotted Lyle taking off in his car. Half an hour later, she'd called again to tell him that Lyle had taken the company jet. And the flight plan was New York.

As he drove through the streets of New York, he kept an eye out for any sweepers. As the richness and wealth of Manhattan gave way to the shabbiness of the streets of Harlem, he spotted two vehicles. Inside one, he saw a bald head. Raines.

Jarod came to a sudden stop with the squeal of brakes. His way was blocked by a construction vehicle. There was no time to hesitate, he thought. He had to make a decision and make it quickly. Backing up, he moved the car out of the way of the traffic and got out, running for the home where Edna Raines had died.

Just as he got to the entry, he saw him.

"Ethan!"

Bad mistake, he thought. The sweepers had also heard him. Willie, the African American who often acted as Raines' assistant, saw him. So did Raines. Lyle came out of the building.

"You're too late, Jarod," he smirked. "The old man's gone."

Jarod pulled out his gun, aiming it at Lyle. But a hand was on his arm.

"No, come on Jarod. You don't want to do this."

Jarod looked at Ethan, who smiled at him. "Come on," he repeated.

Jarod nodded and turned away from the man who had been his tormentor his last year in The Centre. The man who had 'killed' him and brought him back to life. As much as he wanted to get Lyle back for all that he'd done, in one small glance, Ethan had reminded him he was better than that.

But as they ran for Ethan's car, they found their way blocked by two sweepers. Turning, Jarod saw Raines and Lyle standing calmly, watching them. Then Raines nodded to Willie, who pulled out a handgun, aiming for Jarod.

Jarod looked back at the sweeper team. He and Ethan were being herded back toward Lyle and Raines. Then Ethan did something completely unexpected. Just as Willie fired, he stepped in the way.

Not again, Jarod thought. Please, god, not again. He'd lost Kyle the same way, when Lyle had tried to shoot him. Kyle, a Pretender with even less humanity than he had, and his younger brother, had stepped in front of the bullet, sacrificing himself. Kyle had died in his arms.

Jarod cried out as the bullet hit Ethan in the back, before exiting out of his chest. His eyes were wide and startled and blood began trickling out of his mouth as he collapsed.

"Go Jarod," he whispered. "Find Mr Parker. Help her. She needs you. Go Jarod. Now."

Jarod wanted to stay with the dying young man, but he knew he couldn't. He darted out into the traffic, almost getting hit by a cab. But he was beyond caring. His mind was clouded in grief. Ethan had saved his life and he'd died for it.

Parker was in her office, her new office, when Sydney came in.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She was staring into space, a hand over her heart. "Ethan," she whispered.

"Parker ..."

But she ignored the psychiatrist and got up, leaving the office and a bewildered Sydney, running along the corridor and out to the parking lot. She got in her car and drove, not knowing where she was driving, at breakneck speed, away from the complex, away from the place she called her own personal hell.

It was more than an hour before she stopped driving. She had no idea where she was, but she did see that she had gone north. She stopped on the side of the road and just sat there, panting as if she'd run a marathon. The pain in her chest had stopped but she was filled with a sense of grief so powerful it overwhelmed her.

Her phone chirped and she picked it up, not even remembering taking it with her. There were four missed calls. All from Jarod. She dialled his number, the number he'd given her and told her never to reveal to anyone.

"Parker? Where are you? I've been trying to reach you."

"I'm not sure," she said, "I don't know why. I just had to get in the car and drive. Jarod, what's wrong? You sound strange."

"I can't tell you over the phone. I can pick up your GPS. There's a motel a couple of miles north from where you are. Keep driving on the highway until you see it. I'll be there in a couple of hours. Parker, don't talk to anyone. Not even Sydney."

"Jarod, what's going on?"

"Please, just trust me. Something has happened."

Oh, god, she thought. Ethan. Something had happened to her baby brother. She hung up, after agreeing to meet Jarod at the motel.

But once she got there, she began pacing, unable to get rid of the pent-up energy she felt. Something had gone badly wrong in New York. She knew it. She could feel it.

Parker had tried sitting on the bed in the motel, but she felt too restless. So she decided to go out and see if the office had anything she could read. Anything to keep her mind busy from what she was thinking.

The guy in the office gave her an odd look. But she ignored him, grabbing a copy of the paper. There she saw a story about a pharmaceutical company in Cleveland. One of its employees had confessed to substituting product from an overseas company without FDA approval, resulting in the death of a five year old.

"Jarod," she thought.

It wouldn't be long before Lyle saw the paper as well. And the chase would begin again. She was almost glad that she didn't have to chase Jarod any more. She couldn't anyway, not with her growing feelings for him.

As darkness fell, she began to worry about Jarod. Where was he? He'd promised to be there in a couple of hours. It had been close to three. She hoped he hadn't been caught. She didn't know what she'd do if he had.

Suddenly, headlights shone in the window of the motel. Parker looked out the window, pulling the curtain aside. It was him. She opened the door and ran out to him, almost jumping into his arms. He held her.

"God, Jarod, I was so worried!"

"I know sweetheart, I know. Come on, let's go inside. There's something I have to tell you."

She took his hand and led him inside, sitting him down on the rickety bed.

"It's something to do with Ethan, isn't it?" she said quietly. "I've been sitting here, thinking. He's dead, isn't he?"

Jarod looked at her and he was clearly remembering that peculiar sixth sense she seemed to have inherited from her mother. Along with Ethan.

"Yes," he told her. "Ethan saved my life. I don't know why he did that, but he saved my life."

He quickly told her about New York. He hadn't had time to check out the Redemption Home, but from what Lyle had told him, it appeared her father had managed to get away.

"What do we do now?" she sighed.

"Wait for him to make contact. It's all we can do."

"Jarod, everything's falling apart. My job, The Centre ... you don't know what it's like there right now."

"I think I do," he said. "I've heard the Triumvirate is talking about closing down The Centre."

"Raines and Lyle won't let that happen."

"No, they won't. Which means you need to be careful if you go back there."

"I don't have a choice, Jarod. It's not that easy to break away. You know that better than anybody."

He sighed. "I know. They killed Thomas because you tried to break away once. But I can't stand by and let them do this to you."

"What are you going to do? Jarod, they'll kill you if you go back there."

"No they won't. I'm gambling on the fact that they won't want to lose their Pretender."

"No! I won't let you do this for me. You would never ask me to do the same thing for you!"

He got up from the bed and went to the window, pushing a hand through his long hair. Parker had a fleeting thought of running her fingers through that hair.

"I don't know what to do, Parker. I can't protect you from out here."

"I'm not asking you to," she said, going up to him, pulling his arms around her. "Jarod, don't you see? I can get the answers we both need from inside."

"And what if they find out what you're doing? They'll kill you."

"I won't let that happen. Angelo will warn me. So will Broots." She smiled. "I think they know about us."

Jarod touched a hand to her face, gently brushing her hair back.

"Why do you say that?"

"Sydney and Broots have been giving me these looks the past couple of days."

Jarod snickered suddenly. "Sydney doesn't miss much, does he?"

Parker laughed. "No, he doesn't." She pressed her head against his chest. "Jarod, I don't know what this is, but I just know that I feel safe when I'm with you. I feel ... whole. Like I finally found what I've been missing all this time."

He lifted her head, leaning down to kiss her. She wound her arms around him, giving him as much of her as she could, letting him undo the buttons of her blouse. She led him to the bed and sank down with him, forgetting the fact that this was a dingy motel room. Forgetting everything but him.


	10. Chapter Nine: Gabrielle

Chapter Nine

Parker returned to The Centre, saying nothing to Sydney about her sudden disappearance. But he continued to look strangely at her whenever they passed in the corridor for the next few days. Since she was now off the Jarod pursuit, they were not working together.

Jarod was continuing his search for her father. He called her on the secure phone every night to make sure she was okay. And to update her on his progress. He'd managed to talk to the people at the Redemption Home and he'd learned that Mr Parker had been and gone, long before The Centre's sweepers arrived.

There were no more breadcrumbs. Parker was worried that her father might have decided to go underground. She decided to talk to Broots about it, meeting him out of range of the surveillance.

"Miss Parker, I can't," he protested. "You know Lyle's got me on special projects."

"Please Broots. This is my father we're talking about. If anyone knows the truth about this place, he does. We have to find him."

"What about Jarod?" he asked.

"What about him?"

"Isn't he looking for your father?"

"He's also being pursued. I can't ask him to keep risking himself for me."

Broots looked at her with a gentle smile and for the first time, she realised she had seriously under-estimated this man. Broots might appear cowardly, but he had a big heart and she knew he would do anything for her. He was a good friend. One day, she vowed, she would get him out of The Centre. She would save him the way Jarod was saving her.

"Okay," he answered softly. "I'll do what I can."

"Broots, be careful. Please." She didn't add what she wanted to say. That she didn't want anything to happen to him. He had a daughter to take care of.

The weeks passed, and she used her time wisely, doing her work as quickly as possible and using the rest of it to delve deep into Centre archives, looking for something, anything that could help her find the truth about her past, her mother's death, and what was really going on at The Centre.

It was early on a Monday morning, after she'd managed to get away for the weekend with Jarod, that Broots came into her office, panting excitedly.

"I think I got something," he said.

"What?"

"Look, I'm not sure. Not yet. I need to surf the 'Net. But one of my online friends thought they might have a lead for me."

Parker looked at him, frowning.

"You told your online friends about this?" He was such a nerd sometimes, she thought fondly. The trouble was, he was also opening himself up to scrutiny from The Centre.

"Oh no, don't worry," he assured her. "My connection is completely secure. Uh, Jarod, actually, helped me with that. The software he sent me a couple of weeks ago."

"Well, where is it?" she asked.

"Give me an hour," he said. "I need to report to Lyle first."

She nodded. Lyle was doing his best to make sure that Parker wasn't given the opportunity to keep up with the pursuit of Jarod. She supposed he didn't want her warning him.

The blonde woman stopped at the top of the steps, staring at the two men in the atrium. She glanced around. No one had seen her but that could change. Especially with all the cameras watching. She quickly went down the steps.

"I want that report on my desk by the end of the day," Lyle was saying.

The other man sounded breathless as he turned on the thumbless man. "Why?" he said. "I mean, I'm not sure I can get it done in time." As he talked, he was putting something in his pocket. What looked like a folded letter sized piece of paper. Lyle seemed not to have noticed.

"If you want to keep your job, Broots ..." He stopped and stared at the blonde.

"Something we can do for you, Miss?" He looked her up and down and made a face as if criticising her appearance, even though she was neatly dressed in a professional-looking skirt and jacket.

"Um, Gabby. I'm Gabby. Um, I was having problems with my computer and they told me in I.T to come find Mr Broots."

"Uh, well ..."

Lyle smirked. "Duty calls, Broots. And remember, by the end of the day." He turned and walked away.

"Uh, yes sir," Broots called after him, making a sort of snort. He then turned to the blonde. She appeared to be in her mid twenties, kind of nerdy looking, with steel-rimmed glasses.

"Uh, problem with your computer? What exactly is the problem?"

"Um, I don't know. Really don't like computers that much. Anyway, I was doing ... something ... and it just went pffft." She waved her hands as if that would help her demonstrate exactly what the computer had done. Broots groaned inwardly, but followed her back to the office where she worked. He had seen the woman around, but hadn't hung around long enough to talk to her.

"So," he said, bending down to take a look at the computer. Gabby took a slip of paper out of her pocket and slipped it surreptitiously in Broots' pocket. The same pocket he'd put the paper in earlier.

"Yeah, I see what the problem is," Broots said as he booted up the hard drive and looked at the protocols. "I'll get one of the guys to work on it."

"Why? What is it?"

"Your drive crashed. They'll need to recover the files before they can fix it." Her eyes seemed to glaze over and Broots got the impression she had no idea what he had just told her. "You might have to use someone else's computer for a while," he added, and that she understood.

"Damn," she moaned. "I hate using other people's computers. They have them set differently." She grinned wryly. "Like I said, I don't know much about computers. I just managed to work my way around my own system. Other people like to set up things to suit themselves. Will it take long, do you think?"

"No," Broots said. "A day. Day and a half. They can most likely go into the mainframe and retrieve the files you need."

"Okay, whoa," she said. "That just went straight over my head." She laughed and he laughed with her. "I'm a blonde," she added. "What do you expect?"

Broots left her and was walking back toward Miss Parker's office when she intercepted him.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Sorry. One of the girls in the secretarial pool needed me to look at her computer."

"Never mind that. Did you get it?"

Broots pulled out the folded paper, handing it to her. It was a newspaper article on a political meeting in Chicago. Members of the Triumvirate had been there. But the photo also showed someone else. Mr Parker. Miss Parker thanked Broots and started to walk away, then spotted a tightly folded slip of paper on the ground.

"Broots, drop something? Not gambling on the baseball are you?"

She picked it up. In small handwriting, she saw her name. Frowning, she stared at Broots.

"What is this?" she asked.

Broots shrugged. "No idea. I've never seen it before."

Miss Parker snorted, then began walking back to her office, unfolding the paper. It was a note.

"_Miss Parker, I must meet with you. It is an important matter concerning your mother. Please do not ignore this." _

The note gave a time of six o'clock and a meeting place just outside of Blue Cove. There was no signature. Parker didn't recognise the handwriting, but she wondered if it was a trap set by little brother.

When Sydney came in a short time later, she was digging out aspirin for her developing migraine. She hated her life.

"You look tired. Why don't you call it a night and go home."

Parker sighed and shook her head. She handed Sydney the note.

"It doesn't look like Jarod's handwriting," Sydney said.

"You have a knack for stating the obvious," she said caustically. "Besides, Jarod tends to be more cryptic in his crossword clues." She wasn't about to give away the fact that she was now in a relationship with the Pretender. Since Sydney was still assigned to the pursuit.

"Are you going?"

"I'll check it out."

"Alone?"

"That's what the note says. Look, you can bleat all you want Freud, but I can take care of myself."

"And what about Lyle? Since they reassigned you, they've had you on a tight leash."

"Don't I know it," Parker moaned. She stood up from her desk, tossing the note back down on the pad and went with Sydney to the door, planning on heading to the cafeteria to get a decent cup of coffee.

As soon as she was gone, Angelo slowly entered the office. He looked cautiously behind them, then grabbed the note, reading it, then put it in the pocket of his shirt, going back out of the office.

Gabby frowned, glancing at her watch. It was fifteen minutes past the time and she still hadn't seen Miss Parker. She was starting to get worried. Especially since for the last thirty minutes, she had got the feeling she was being watched. She'd seen a black four door Mustang parked in the parking lot across from the playground, but hadn't been able to identify the person in it.

She had hidden her eyes behind dark glasses so she could watch without making it obvious that she was watching. But she was still startled when she was approached by a man about six foot two inches tall with black hair and soulful eyes.

Urgh, she said to herself. She wasn't into this poetic rubbish. But the man standing beside her did have that look about him. The only trouble was, he was also holding a gun. A very large handgun.

"Gabby?" he said.

How did he know her name? How did he know she'd be here?

"It's okay. I'm here to help you. I know you're here to meet Miss Parker. She's been delayed."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she told him coolly. "I'm just here to see the ducks." She continued looking toward the duck pond, pretending to ignore him, but her heart was hammering in her chest. She narrowed her eyes at him. She hadn't identified herself in the note. No description, no name, so how had this man known who she was and what she was doing.

Jarod looked at Gabby. He could understand her caginess. After all, she worked for The Centre. When Angelo had sent him the note, he'd told him he'd also seen Gabby put the note in Broots' pocket – in that funny way of his. But it had told Jarod everything he wanted to know.

The only trouble was, Angelo wasn't the only one who had seen what Gabby had done. Lyle's security team had spotted the ruse, knowing she had deliberately crashed her hard drive and gone looking for Broots without consulting the I.T department at The Centre. Sweepers were now on their way to this park to grab her.

"We don't have much time Gabby," Jarod said. "Come with me now."

"Why should I? I don't even know who you are!"

Jarod groaned inwardly. Sweepers were just coming over the rise, heading straight for the bench on where she sat.

"No time for explanations," Jarod said, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. Startled, she turned her head and saw the sweeper team. She looked at Jarod and stopped resisting him.

"You have something for Miss Parker," he said. "About her mother. I can get it to her." He nodded and smiled at her. "It's okay. You can trust me."

Gabby shook her head. "It's not here," she said. "I know where to get it, but I didn't bring it with me. I needed to make sure it was okay first."

Jarod looked at her, his expression a mixture of concern, and of wonder. She smiled.

"Please. I work at The Centre. And let me tell you, since old man Parker vanished, it's like Stalingrad around there."

Jarod opened the car door for her, then got in the other side and peeled out. He saw Miss Parker's car entering the parking lot. He could see from the expression on her face that she was furious.

Angelo had sent him a message, telling him that Lyle had stopped her from leaving, lecturing her about how 'important' it was that she follow Centre policy. He then proceeded to lecture her about taking off whenever she felt like it. Jarod knew Lyle must have known something – trying to keep his sister from making her 'appointment'.


	11. Chapter Ten: Catherine's Plan

Chapter Ten

"Miss Parker," Gabby said, turning her head to watch the other car pass. "Are you going to let her know?"

"She'll see the sweepers," he said.

"I came here for her, not for you. What I have, I can only give to her." She looked at him as he turned on her, as if to reassure her that he was trustworthy.

"Look, it's not that I don't trust you. It's just – I don't even know who you are."

"Jarod," he said simply. Her eyes widened.

"Oh my god. You. Damn," she laughed. "You should hear the horror stories they tell about you around that place."

Jarod found himself grinning. "What? Like I have horns and a tail?"

She laughed. "Yeah, something like that. God, it is an honour to meet you," she said.

"You're not afraid of me?"

She scoffed. "Hell no. You do amazing work out there." She looked at him. "I'm a fan." She leaned back in her seat, sobering suddenly. "I was supposed to be one of them," she said softly. "My mom, she worked for them. When I was little, they had me tested. To see if I was good enough. I've never been so glad to fail a test in my life."

Jarod glanced at her, one eye on the road, the other on her.

"You knew about this? The Pretender program?"

"Yeah. I guess it was only because my mom was such a loyal employee that we both survived the testing. Of course, they didn't know that I knew all about it anyway. My mom managed to smuggle out some files. She died a couple of months ago." She sighed and Jarod could see that she was still grieving that loss. "We were really close, you know? But it wasn't until I was going through her stuff, like her safety deposit box at the bank, that I knew any of this."

"How did it happen?"

"Cancer. She smoked most of her adult life and I guess it caught up with her. Tried to get her to quit so many times. Lung cancer," she added, looking at Jarod.

"I'm sorry."

"Eh, she'd been dying for two years. Kept telling me she was hanging on until I got married. Like that's going to happen."

"Why? Don't you want to?"

"Well, yeah, but guys, well, they just don't see me, you know? Most guys I know, they only look at the surface, and well, I'm not much to look at."

"I think you're selling yourself short," he said. "I think you're a very attractive young woman."

"Thanks," she said softly.

She turned in her seat and looked at him thoughtfully for a while.

"How do you do it? How do you go out there every day and help people? I mean, you must see an awful lot of bad things happen."

"I have," he said, nodding pensively. "But I see a lot of beauty in the world too. I guess, having been kept in The Centre so long, I missed out on a lot. But it makes me feel good to help others. To put some joy back in their lives."

"I used to think about doing something like that. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a writer. You know, like a reporter or something. But I didn't want to work for just one newspaper. I wanted to travel the world and write about what I saw. And the stuff that happened."

"You still could. You're only ... what ... twenty-four?"

She laughed out loud. "Gee, thank you for the compliment Jarod. But I think you know better than that. I mean, you seem to know all about me."

"Not everything," he grinned back. "Yes, I did look quickly at your personnel file. I needed to know if you were trustworthy."

"Touche!"

Jarod wondered why she hid behind the image, pretending to be less intelligent than she was. She might have been tested for the Pretender project when she was young, but she hadn't shown any signs of superior intelligence. Her grades had been average in high school.

"I didn't want to stand out," she said softly. Jarod realised she had been watching his face and she knew what he was thinking. She really would have made a good Pretender. Jarod had the awful suspicion that she'd failed on purpose. That someone had told her to. And he had a suspicion who that might have been.

"Gabby ... do you mind if I call you Gabrielle? Gabby doesn't suit you."

She shrugged and smiled. Jarod continued.

"Where is the thing you were going to give Miss Parker?"

"I'll show you. It's an address in Blue Cove."

Jarod drove to the address she gave him. He thought they were going inside the house, but she turned down the path and headed for the backyard of the property. There were lights on inside the house.

"Is this your house?" Jarod asked.

"No. It belongs to friends of mine. It's okay," she whispered. "They're on vacation. But they have the lights on a timer."

"Oh. Good." It was obviously a security trick they'd used to try to fool would-be burglars.

Gabrielle headed for the garden. She picked up a large paving stone and took something out from beneath. When she saw Jarod's admiring look at her smart thinking she grinned.

"Too much time spent watching James Bond movies," she said. At his puzzled frown she tried to explain. "You know? Double-oh-seven? Spy stuff? Sean Connery."

"No. I don't watch a lot of movies."

"Not unless you're on a mission, huh, Jarod?"

"Something like that." He glanced around anxiously. "We should go." He held out his hand for the plastic covered file.

"No. Miss Parker needs to see this," she said.

"Gabrielle ... " he began.

"No Jarod. My mom kept this for her. For Catherine Parker."

"All right. But we'll need to meet her on neutral ground."

"There' s a good motel in Dover. We can call her on the way," she said.

Jarod drove to Dover, dialling Miss Parker's number.

"What?" she answered. She sounded pissed.

"Sorry we missed you."

"Jarod, what's going on?"

He quickly had to tell her he wasn't alone. "I have someone with me who needs to speak with you." He handed the phone to Gabrielle.

"Miss Parker? You don't know me, but I work at The Centre. Are you alone?"

"You were the one who sent the note?"

"Yes. Miss Parker, are you at The Centre right now?"

"No. I'm in my car."

"It's not lo-jacked, is it?"

She could almost hear Parker frowning. Miss Parker sighed, her sigh becoming almost a growl.

"What's with the twenty questions?"

"Miss Parker, I'm going to send you some co-ordinates on your phone. But we need to make sure you're not followed. They can track you by the GPS system." Gabrielle turned to Jarod. "Are you able to hack into the GPS and jam the tracking?"

"I can try," Jarod said.

Gabrielle nodded. She turned back to the phone. "Miss Parker, this is really important. Sweepers tried to grab me tonight. And I know that if they find me, I'll probably end up in the same place your mother did. So please, just trust me when I say you need to come alone. And let me suggest to you that any thoughts you have of turning me or Jarod over to Lyle and the others to buy back your senior position, well that's just not going to happen."

"And who the hell are you to tell me ..."

"Miss Parker, your mother died for this. Do you really want my blood on your hands?"

She hung up the phone, then grabbed a notebook and began copying the co-ordinates of the motel.

"You've obviously been planning this for a while."

"Since I found out exactly what my mother had been sitting on, yeah. I knew a couple of years ago, when Miss Parker was trying to get the truth about Catherine's death, that it could mean trouble. Hell, Lyle and Mr Raines were running all over the place trying to keep things quiet." She looked at him as he pulled into the motel parking lot. "You hear a lot when people think you're invisible."

"I heard the way you spoke to Miss Parker. She won't like that."

"Yeah, Miss Parker talks tough, and I guess the only way she'll listen is if you talk tough back."

For the second time that night, Jarod pondered this young woman and her ability to sense what was needed in any situation. She would have definitely been a good Pretender. As she got out, she looked at him.

"I know what you're thinking. You're right. I did fail that test deliberately. But while I might have the instinct, I don't have the ability. I don't have the eidetic memory, so I can't be anyone I want to be. I am almost as smart as you though," she said, her mouth twitching. "Maybe even smarter."

"We'll see about that," Jarod muttered as he followed her into the motel room.

Once Jarod had been able to jam the GPS tracker on Parker's car, Gabrielle sent her the co-ordinates. They sat in the motel room, talking, for the next hour, while it grew dark. Jarod found himself telling Gabrielle about his adventures. She laughed at some of the pranks he'd played on Miss Parker.

They heard a car pull up and Gabrielle, who was sitting on the couch by the window, looked through the gap in the drapes.

"She's here."

Jarod just looked up as Gabrielle got up and went out, checking to make sure there was no one else in the vehicle and no other cars around. The motel she'd chosen was fairly isolated, and had very few guests. It was why she'd come here when she first realised what she needed to do, and what could happen.

"Miss Parker. I'm Gabrielle." Parker pulled out her 9mm. Gabrielle looked at her and sighed. "I'm not armed Miss Parker."

Sighing, Parker put down the gun. She glanced over the woman's head at Jarod and he shook his head. But Gabrielle saw the look that passed between them.

"Really? You two?"

Gabrielle pushed past Jarod and went back into the motel room, shooting him a look that suggested she found it a little hard to believe. Parker just gave him an odd look before following the younger woman into the room.

"What is this about Gabrielle?"

The blonde picked up a packet from the bed and gave it to her. Parker opened it quickly. There was a letter, worn with age, torn in places.

_Amelia,_

_It pains me that I must ask this one favour of you. My dear friend, you may have heard some unpleasant things said about me and about my family. Please believe me when I say there was no other way. And now I need your help, dear friend. I must ask you to keep what is enclosed here until such time that it is safe for my daughter to see it. You will know when the time is right, my dear. I did hope that I would be able to return for my little girl, and Jarod, but I know now that is not possible. Please, my dear, keep this safe. And no matter what, tell no one that you have this. For your own sake. The life of my daughter depends on what you now hold in your hands. She is my gift from God. _

_Yours,_

_Catherine._

Parker looked up at the blonde. "Who's Amelia?"

"My mother. She was Catherine's secretary until your mother died. The Centre never knew of their friendship. They maintained a strictly professional relationship within the walls of the Centre."

Parker read the letter again. She knew it was from her mother. It wasn't just her instinct, her inner sense which told her. It was the last line. Catherine had told Sydney the same thing the day she faked her death.

"What is it?" Jarod asked. Parker hesitated, then held the letter out to him. He read it quickly. "What's in the file?"

Parker looked at Gabrielle. "Have you read any of this?" she said, waving the file at her.

Gabrielle shook her head. "I realised when I read the letter it was for you."

"How did you find this?" Jarod asked.

"Well, I was cleaning out my mom's stuff, after, well, you know, and I found a key to her safety deposit box. When I opened the box all I found was a crossword puzzle book."

Parker cocked an eyebrow. Gabrielle laughed.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. But then I remembered my mother loved creating them as much as she loved doing them. She used to do a crossword for my birthday each year as a way of giving me clues to my real present. So I knew there were clues in the book to something important. They eventually led me to the file."

Parker dug through the documents. She pulled out a small disk.

"Oh my god," she said.

Jarod looked at the DSA. "Parker, what's wrong?" he said, going to her to put a hand on her shoulder.

"Raines told me my mom had made a DSA before she died. But they could never find it. It was supposed to have something on there about her plan. This might be it. Oh my god."

Jarod picked up the metal case containing his DSA player, putting it on the bed and opening it up. Parker's hands were shaking as she tried to take the DSA out of the little case.

Gabrielle stared. "My mother must have somehow had the old archive tape transferred to the disk," she said, almost breathless with excitement. "That sneaky so and so."

"It can't have been made very long ago," Jarod said. He took the disk from Parker who somehow couldn't get her fingers to work. "Let me."

He put the disk in the player and activated it. Parker sank to the floor as the image of her mother, filmed more than thirty years ago, appeared on the screen.

"Momma," she said.

"_Hello, my darling. I wish I was there with you, but I know now that I can't be. There is so much I want to say, but I have very little time and there is something important you must know._

"_When your father first brought me here to the Centre, it seemed like a good place." _Catherine's eyes closed for a moment and she nodded slowly, her emotion clear on her face. _"A place which believed in helping people. But much has changed. And I know now I cannot condone this. My daughter, if you are seeing this, then I am gone and my plan to stop the evil that The Centre is doing has failed. Now I need you to carry on in my name."_

Catherine stared at the screen. She whispered the name. _"Monica, my darling, I named you for the mother of St Augustine who said that God judged it better to bring good out of evil than to suffer no evil to exist. This is my plan, and what I hope you will continue my darling. Bring good out of this evil the Centre has created. My wish is for you and Jarod to work together to achieve this. Take what the Centre has taught you and turn it into something good."_

The disk stopped playing. Jarod closed the case and looked at Parker. She was crying.

"What are you going to do?" he said softly.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "I can't deal with this right now. It's too much."

"Parker ..." he began.

Jarod picked up the documents. There had to be at least two hundred pages. Memos, notes, documenting all the projects the Centre had undertaken in the time Catherine Parker had been at the Centre. Twelve years of work. Twelve years of evil acts.

"This is what she wanted for you. Not the Centre," Jarod tried to tell her.

"And look where she ended up. With a bullet in her head. And Ethan, god poor Ethan ..."

"Ethan's gone, Parker. Raines killed him."

"And if I hadn't ... if we hadn't gone chasing after ghosts, Ethan might still be alive."

"At what cost?" Jarod said. "Hundreds of people would have died in that hotel when that train blew. You know that."

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. My father, Raines, Lyle, god, even your family. Nothing is what is seems anymore. And she ... God, I can't be what she wants. She named me for the mother of a saint. What was she hoping to achieve by that? Did she want me to be a saint?"

"No," Jarod said, going to her, stopping her momentum, trying to calm her. "She wanted you to understand. To thine ownself be true, remember that? You are not the monster you think you are."

"I wanted to kill Raines when I found out what he did to my mother."

"He used her. He manipulated her and made her think she could trust him, when all along he had been planning to take over the Centre. We both know this. Parker, it doesn't have to be this way. You are not a killer."

Parker shook her head. "No. But it is. That's the rule Jarod. You run, I chase. That is the Parker curse. My curse." She continued shaking her head, then grabbed the documents.

All this time, Gabrielle had been standing silently watching. She realised Miss Parker was highly emotional right now.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, seeing Parker had begun to lose steam. "I never meant to cause you more pain."

The brunette shook her head. "You did what you thought was right." She looked up at the younger woman, eyes full of grief and pain. "You didn't know."

She went to the door of the room and opened it, then took one final look at Jarod and left, closing the door softly behind her.

Gabrielle looked helplessly at Jarod. "I'm sorry," she said again. Jarod approached her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"You did the right thing," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "She's been looking for that for a long time."

"But she's ..."

"Parker is going through something which even I can't help her with right now. She'll be all right. Miss Parker is tough."

Gabrielle shook her head. "Not as tough as she pretends to be."

Jarod was forced to agree. He sighed, but said nothing about his own worries about Miss Parker.

"What will you do now?" he asked Gabrielle.

"I don't know. I know I can't go back to Blue Cove. If they find out what I've done ... what I've told her."

"I can help you," Jarod said. "Anything you need. I can get you money, whatever you want."

Gabrielle smiled. "You know, I think I might do that thing I always wanted to do. Travel the world. Write."

Jarod nodded. "Sounds like a good idea."


	12. Chapter Eleven: Going Underground

Chapter Eleven

Miss Parker sighed as she drove back to Blue Cove. The revelations about her mother, Ethan, her father. It was all too much. And then there were her feelings for Jarod. She couldn't deal with this anymore.

Her phone rang and she picked up.

"Jarod, I'm sorry, I don't want to fight, but I just need to be alone right now."

"Parker ... Monica, we need to talk this through."

"Do we? I can't do this anymore Jarod. It hurts too much. And I'm afraid. I don't want to lose you either. But it seems like just as we start to get close, something happens and I ..."

"Would it have been easier if you'd never seen the DSA?"

"This isn't Gabrielle's fault. I know that. And you know I've been looking for that DSA ever since I found out Mom left it. God, Jarod, Lyle and Raines – they'd kill for that DSA. You know they would. She took a huge risk just getting it to me."

"She'll be safe. Gabrielle's a lot smarter than they give her credit for. She'll be okay."

"You seem so sure. But then, look at Ethan."

"I know, sweetheart. I know."

Parker didn't call him on the endearment. It felt almost comforting that he could call her that. Like she was close to something more powerful than she'd ever known. Even with Tommy.

"Jarod, Broots found something. Daddy was in Chicago a few weeks ago. At a Triumvirate meeting."

"What was he doing? Trying to buy his way back in?"

"The article doesn't say. But you know my father. He's always found a way back."

"What else does it say?" he asked.

"Just that it was an international conference."

"Where in Chicago?"

Parker suddenly got a bad feeling. "Why? Jarod, what do you know?"

"Tell me."

"The International."

"My god. They did it. Raines and Lyle actually did it."

"Jarod?"

"You didn't see the news? That hotel was destroyed in a huge explosion. It's similar to what Raines got Ethan to do."

"Another Raines coup. They get rid of Adama, then they take out the rest of the Triumvirate. I have to get some proof of this."

"No, Parker. Listen to me. You have to get out of there. It's not safe for you any more."

"Jarod, I can't just ... What about Broots, and Sydney. And Angelo."

"We have to leave them behind. We'll come back for them. Parker, go home, get some things together. I'll come and get you."

"I have to tell them. They have to understand."

"We'll tell them together. Monica, please."

"Yes, Jarod. I'll come with you."

"Good. I'm not far behind you."

Parker drove on through the night, knowing that this was going to be the last time she would ever see Blue Cove.

Sydney was at his desk, working late, when his phone rang. He knew the moment he picked up who it was.

"Jarod."

"I don't have time to talk, Sydney. Parker and I are leaving tonight. We're going underground."

"Jarod ..."

"Get Broots and Angelo. Meet us on the highway a quarter mile from Parker's house. And don't let security see you."

Jarod rang off, leaving Sydney bemused. But he did as instructed, going to look for Broots in the computer lab. He didn't explain, just told Broots to hurry, then he went to look for Angelo.

A short while later, with Angelo sitting placidly in the backseat, Sydney waited at the appointed spot. Jarod's Mustang arrived about five minutes later. Parker got out.

"Parker, what is this about?" Sydney said.

"It's just as Jarod said. We're going underground. We – we're together."

"You love him," Sydney stated, and she nodded.

Jarod looked at his former teacher. "I don't know what's going to happen once they figure out Parker and I are together. But we have to go underground. We can't contact you."

"For how long?" Broots asked.

"We don't know," Jarod told him honestly. "Raines and Lyle orchestrated the murders of the rest of the Triumvirate members. They're taking over The Centre."

"I knew it," Broots said, looking at Sydney. "Didn't I tell you something was up?"

Sydney embraced the startled Miss Parker. "Be safe," he said. "And be happy."

She nodded again, and it was clear she was trying to hold back tears. She turned to Angelo.

"I wish there was something we could do for you. But when the time is right, we'll come back for you. I promise." She glanced up at Sydney and Broots. "All of you."

"I know you will," Sydney assured her. He took his former charge aside. "Take care of her Jarod."

Jarod put his arm around Parker. "I will," he smiled.

The three of them watched as Jarod and Parker got in the car and drove away. They knew they would be facing an interrogation the next day over Parker's disappearance, but neither Broots nor Sydney could find it in themselves to be resentful. She would be safer with Jarod. They would take care of each other.

Parker looked at Jarod and smiled. She held her arms up and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Then laughed.

"I'm free," she said. "I never knew it would feel so good."

Jarod knew they had a long way to go before that would really happen, but he couldn't help but be caught up in her enthusiasm.

They drove north until it was late, then checked into a motel. It was a dump, but they didn't care as they sank down on the bed and came together. Sated and exhausted, Parker lay in his arms.

"Jarod, will we go back? One day, I mean."

"We promised them. We can't leave them there."

"I know."

"And one day, we'll be able to do what your mother wanted for us. Turn what was evil into something good."

She rolled over and kissed him. "I hope so," she said, going to plant kisses on his chest. But she was interrupted by her phone ringing.

"Angel?"

"Daddy?"

A devastating sight awaited them when they finally made it to the place Mr Parker had asked them to come. He was frail and seemed to have aged thirty years since Parker had last seen him.

She almost fell onto the chair beside the bed, unable to handle the tubes in his arms.

"Oh, Angel, don't cry," he said softly.

"Daddy ..."

"I knew, Angel. Before the shooting. I knew then."

Cancer. It was such an ugly word, and an ugly illness. Jarod looked at Parker, then at her father. They were each trying to seek comfort in each other.

"Why did you go to Chicago, if you knew ..."

"I thought I could stop it," the old man said. "Thought I could prevent a tragedy. I was a fool."

Jarod shook his head.

"I should leave you two alone."

"No," Mr Parker said. "This is about you too."

"Daddy, we thought, we feared the worst."

The man's wizened face gave a tiny grin. "Just shows, you can never keep a Parker down, hmm?" He coughed, the effort showing in his expression. He had lost a lot of weight in the months since Jarod had seen him that fateful day. When he'd jumped out of the plane with the scrolls.

Jarod sat down on the bed, looking at the old man. The man he'd feared for so long, second only to the Centre ghoul, Mr Raines, ie, the younger Mr Parker. Here now, seeing him on his deathbed, Jarod could only feel pity for the man.

A nurse came in to check on her patient.

"You really shouldn't be here," she told Jarod and Parker.

Mr Parker glared at her. "Leave me and my family here in peace will ya?" He leaned forward in the bed, breathing heavily. "Got something to say. Now go on. Get."

He sighed. Jarod levered the bed up so the old man was in a more comfortable position and could look at them both.

"Listen, got something to tell ya, something important."

"You should rest, Daddy."

"I'll get my rest soon, Angel. Guarantee that. Got something to say to your boyfriend here." He winked suddenly. "Don't think I don't know. Can see it in your faces. And I'm glad." He looked at Jarod. "You make my girl happy. And I can't ask for more than that."

Jarod nodded. "What did you want to tell us?"

"That prophecy. It's all nonsense, you know? Truth is, you've got the power to shape your own destiny. And it's people like you two, who have the power to change the world, hmm?" He coughed again, long, hacking coughs that seemed to drain his energy. Jarod poured a glass of water from the pitcher and handed it to him. Mr Parker drank thirstily.

"Change the world? What do you mean?"

"It was never about you being a Pretender. It was about control. You were the key, Jarod. The key to absolute power. You know what they say about power, don't you?"

"It corrupts," Jarod said.

"And absolute power corrupts absolutely. They used to have another saying. Men live and die by the sword. But the pen is mightier than the sword."

He was talking in idioms. Riddles. Jarod sighed. The story of his life. Especially when it came to The Centre.

"Why did they try to stop me finding my mother?"

"Because your mother and Catherine knew everything about the Centre. About its plans for you."

"And what plans were those?"

"To use you to conquer the world. Oh sure, the sims you performed were useful in getting us the right sort of contacts. But you control their resources, you control them."

"The Triumvirate, Africa. With me, they could control the world economy. Become the next super-power."

"And then some. Imagine someone like Adama in charge of a world government."

"We would be economically and morally bankrupt within a short time."

Jarod could see the old man was getting tired. He went to stand up, planning to leave. But the old man grabbed his hand.

"No, don't go. There's ... so much ...more I needed to say."

"I really don't think ..."

"Jarod, please. I know what the Centre did to you was wrong. But we didn't see any other way. You were right. It was all about controlling you. We figured what was in the prophecies would come out sooner or later. We kept you because we didn't want anyone else to control you."

"Better the devil you know?"

"Precisely."

A shadow of the old man's twisted grin came through.

"I know better now," Mr Parker said. "The last couple of months I've had a little time to reflect. I know an apology is too little, too late, but I'll make it anyway."

The man's steely blue eyes looked directly into Jarod's. "Now, what about you two? What are your plans?"

"We're going underground, Daddy. For as long as it takes to get what we need to take down The Centre for good."

"Aw hell, always knew if you got mad enough, you'd disappear Jarod. But at least you'll be together. I'm glad you got her out of there before ..."

"Before what?"

"Before they did to you what they did to Catherine, Angel."

"I loved Catherine. Even long after she died. Brigitte, well, you were right about that Angel. I did use her. And I'm sorry she's dead." He sighed. "Damn Raines. Took my son away. But I got him back for that."

Brigitte Parker had given birth to a boy just before she'd bled to death through a condition called placenta previa. The little boy had not been seen since Mr Parker had disappeared from The Centre almost a year ago. Parker had assumed that Raines had taken the child.

"Daddy, what did you do?"

"Got one of my people to take him. Adopt him into a good family. He's safe, Angel. Don't you worry."

The old man coughed again, and this time it didn't seem to want to stop. His coughs turned into pain-filled moans and Jarod knew it was getting close to his time. He helped his former enemy lay back, his expression full of concern. Mr Parker had chosen this place deliberately. Chosen his own method of dying, rather than The Centre's. It was the only concession he could give himself. His last bid for freedom.

Mr Parker quietly begged the two of them to stay. They held the old man's hand long into the night, listening as the man's heavy breaths slowly faded away, the heart monitor recording his slow descent into death. Some time in the early morning, John Alfred Parker slipped away and Jarod quietly shed tears, finally understanding what this man had tried to tell him.

Two days later, they stood quietly together as they watched Mr Parker's body being taken for cremation.

"I'm sorry," Jarod sighed.

"He chose his own method of dying. And they're together now," Parker said softly. "I just have that feeling."

Jarod turned her to face him. "Parker."

"I'm okay, Jarod. He was right, you know. Together, we have the power to change the world. We're already changing it."

Jarod frowned. "What do you mean?"

She smiled and kissed him. "You're going to be a Daddy, Jarod."


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue – One Year Later

Sydney was working in his office. Since Jarod had disappeared with Miss Parker, all communication had ended. He was no longer throwing out breadcrumbs and neither one of them were working in the community.

Lyle hadn't given up on the pursuit. He had ordered Sydney and Broots to keep checking through the net for any clues to Jarod's whereabouts. There was no mention of Miss Parker. It was as if Lyle had written his twin sister off.

There was the sound of something scraping and Sydney looked up, peering into the darkness.

"Broots? Is that you?"

Then he remembered that Broots would be in the data annex, backing up the mainframe, as he always did on a Friday night.

Sydney got up to investigate and found himself caught up in the grip of a hand. Then a face revealed itself in the dim light.

"Jarod!" Sydney's voice was a joyful, loud whisper.

"Sydney," he said, hugging the older man. "We did promise we'd be back."

"Parker? She's with you?"

Jarod nodded. "Of course, she's no longer Miss Parker," he grinned, holding up his hand to show the gold wedding band. He quickly told Sydney how he and Parker had married a few days after she'd told him they had a family on the way.

Sydney chuckled. "Jarod, you're a father!"

"Twins," Jarod grinned. "A boy and a girl. We named them Kyle and Catherine."

"And are they trouble with a capital T," Parker chuckled, coming into the room. She enveloped the older man in a hug. "Take after their father," she grinned. Jarod just smiled at her. Then he turned to Sydney.

"We came back to get some files. And for you. And Broots. And Angelo, if he'll come with us."

Sydney nodded. "There's nothing here for me now, anyway," he said.

The three of them turned to go, then Sydney hesitated. "Wait," he said. He went to the filing cabinet and opened the drawer, pulling up the lid to a secret compartment. He took out some files and some DSAs. They were his personal files on Jarod.

Broots, when the trio found him, was reluctant to leave.

"What about Debbie?" he asked. "She's with her Mom right now. But if I leave, there's a good chance they'll take her. Use her to flush you out."

Jarod shook his head. "No. My father's on the way to get her. And your ex-wife. You'll all have new lives. We promise."

Parker looked kindly at her friend. "Broots, I know this is hard, but I promise, what we have planned will be better than The Centre. We're calling it the Onyssius Foundation. It will be a place that will only do good things. And we want you to be part of it. You're not just our friend," and Broots felt himself with flushed cheeks after that, "you're also good at your job. And we need someone with your knowledge, your skills."

"Okay," he said softly. "I can do this."

The only thing left now was to convince Angelo. But the empath shook his head.

"The Centre, my home," he said.

Parker knelt down next to him. "Angelo, we're going to have a place where you'll be comfortable."

But Angelo was adamant. The Centre was all he'd ever known. He would never cope with the outside world. Parker and Jarod discussed it and decided that they would let Angelo be, for now. But one day they would take him to a place where he couldn't be abused, couldn't be exploited, where he could at least have a hand in his own destiny.

As the four of them left the Centre and Blue Cove behind, Parker looked back one more time. She had a feeling they'd be back one day. Not as prisoners. But free. And they would destroy it for good. She remembered what her mother had said about getting some good out of evil. And that was precisely what they would do, one step at a time.


End file.
